


The Nonacle

by Go_get_Jakes_gun



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU No Gods, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Because his Lightning Powers are Arguably Seidr, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magic is Illegal in Jotunheim, More tags to be added, Not Canon Compliant, Seidrmadr Loki, Seidrmadr Thor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29495724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Go_get_Jakes_gun/pseuds/Go_get_Jakes_gun
Summary: Inspired by the Prince and the Pauper:Laufey abandoned Loki at birth and replaced him with his nephew, Jarnsaxa. Neither of them know their parents are not their parents. A curse strikes the fiercely anti-magic kingdom of Jotunheim, and Laufey enlists Asgard's help. Thor decides to head to the Oracle against his father's wishes and winds up picking up the lost prince along the way. Only chaos can possibly ensue from here.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

Loki finished polishing the tables of his mother’s tavern. Despite a clearly written closing time of _two in the morning_ , many had stayed long past that. Loki snorted, figures. Vikings weren’t the most honourable people, now were they? And Loki had had to wait for them to finish! His mother had come down with a cold- nothing major, and the local doctor had given her some cough syrup- and so Loki was in charge of the tavern for the foreseeable future.

“You cannot hope to inherit that which you cannot manage, surely?” His mother had asked when he’d complained about the chore.

“No, mother. Of course, mother.” That was his standard response to everything she said lately. His mother had declared it a ‘teenager’ thing. Loki had _lovingly_ reminded her that he was _twenty-one-years-old-dammit!_ His mother had always provoked rage in him: but dammit if he didn’t love her regardless. 

Gaia was a noblewoman once. Then she had slept with some man out of wedlock and lost her footing in the courts. Now she ran a tavern. Loki did not know who his father was, nor did he care to know. He’d done the dishonourable thing by leaving his mother to fend for herself, and that was all that mattered to Loki.

The one benefit of having an ex-noblewoman as his mother was that she knew magic and had been teaching it to him since he was but a babe. Loki had shapeshifting abilities, which he knew were his own. Gaia could shapeshift, but she said it wasn’t seidr, it was a different type of magic, a ‘greek’ magic. She said Loki’d inherited his father’s norse magic. It had almost put Loki off of magic.

Loki glanced around, a breeze flowing in from an open window. He moved to close the window, but couldn’t find it. All the windows were closed. He shrugged. Sometimes the air was just weird, one had to accept that.

Loki blew out the candles in the tavern and went upstairs so he could get some well-deserved sleep. He already knew his mother’d be forcing him awake at _nine_ _in the morning_ despite the fact that it was now already five.

He loved her. He promised.

.

Jarnsaxa stretched to and let loose a long yawn. He’d just woken up.

There was a knock at the door. “My prince, breakfast is ready.” A soft, feminine voice called.

“Come in!” Jarnsaxa invited.

Raga came in with a tray full of goodies for the young prince: powdered bread with maple syrup; eggs;bacon; strawberries. Had she not just had her own breakfast, her stomach would be rumbling right now. Raga was a beautiful, black-haired woman (common in Utgard), Jarnsaxa’s same age (21), and just three inches shorter than his own 6”2. She was tall like most women in the kingdom. What set her apart were her deep brown eyes, and darker than normal skin. They gave her an ‘exotic’ look. Jarnsaxa knew that she was his father’s way of trying to tempt him towards the female flesh. While most had accepted that Jarnsaxa’s place was to be wed off to a prince from another kingdom to secure an alliance, Laufey had always been determined that Jarnsaxa should have a child of his own upon another Jotunn as well. Even a bastard was better than nothing, he’d said.

“Thanks a bunch, Raga!” Jarnsaxa smiled at her. She was his oldest friend. He offered her some of the bacon and strawberries. She thanked him for it. Raga was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. Not just **_anybody_** was allowed to serve royalty. It had to be someone upper-class, in the event of an unwanted romance/pregnancy. This wasn’t just important for female staff: male staffers had to be vetted thoroughly too just incase a female member of the royal family wound up pregnant by them. Imagine if Jarnsaxa’s aunt Kella were to be pregnant by some **_commoner_**! Bad enough she’d gotten pregnant by Jarnsaxa’s uncle Thrym that one time. Thank the **_Norns_** that they were divorced now, and aunt Kella lived with them in Utgard. She was too good for Thrym, or her son Kari even. “Have you heard news of my father?”

“The king is well and able…” she leaned in close to whisper of all the court gossip. “But he is not doing well right now. There is some unknown troubles in the land and the fact that both they and their cause is unknown is stressing him out.”

“Thank you.” He passed her a penny for her troubles. “Can you have Gertrude prepare for me a bath?”

“Why certainly, my prince.” Raga nodded, hurrying off to call upon Gertrude. She quickly flicked the tap on and went to fetch the woman with all the essential oils and ornaments so that she could decorate the bath well and bathe their prince.

The trouble came when no water dripped down from the tap.

.

“The water’s all dried up.” Svenson announced. 

“How is that possible?” Lauefy rubbed his temples.

“My liege, we do not know. What we do know is that just yesterday the dam was full, and today everything is gone. We looked in it for any cracks through which the water might have escaped, but none could be found.”

“Liar.” Laufey hissed. “You know full well, don’t you. Let me have it: _tell me_ that this was sorcery then, do not play the fool.”

Svenson’s head sagged, but he nodded. “Yes, my king. This was likely sorcery. The bottom of the dam was dry as a desert. The water didn’t escape through the ground, and there’s no way the city used _that much_ water overnight.”

“Damned witches.” Laufey snarled. Fifty years ago, his father, Lauti, had killed off all the witches in Jotunheim. The Jotunn Royal Family was one of few that did not practice any witchcraft, given that it had been outlawed ever since Lauti’s reign. 21 years ago, Laufey had discovered that his beloved wife, Farbauti, was a witch herself. Well, he assumed so: why else would the brat she’d spawned start changing its appearance? He certainly didn’t get it from Laufey’s end.

He had no regrets over taking the pair into the woods and slaying her and leaving the child to die. He huffed. There was no place in the world for those tyrannical, no-good magicians. Laufey was just grateful that her curse hadn’t extended to Laufey’s other two sons: Helblindi and Byleistr, or else he’d have no heir.

In a bid to make it seem like Farbauti had simply taken off, Laufey had adopted his sister’s son, Jarnsaxa, and had announced _his_ birth instead of Loptr’s. It had worked too since that lousy, good-for-nothing brother of Farabuti, Thrym, had cast his wife out in favour of some young wretch. Blagh! Curses to the both of them! Kella could do better anyways. And Jarnsaxa was a fine young man, far better than whatever that bastard could have grown into. He doubted that the boy had even been his, given that Helblindi and Byleistr had no traces of magic in either of them. Loptr had probably been fathered by some other man. Regardless, killing Farbauti had been the only honourable thing to do. Whether a witch or an adulteress, she had committed treason by bringing forth a babe of magic.

“Scribe! Come! Write down what I say.” 

.

Odin was grumbling and cursing and growling. His wife watched him with a mix of both amusement and worry. Her husband, though fierce and rugged, hardly ever swore, deeming it unbefitting of a king.

“Husband, what is wrong?” She asked.

“Those bloody Jotnar want our **_help_**!” He cried out as though it was the most offensive thing he’d heard all day.

“And? Are they not under our domain?” 

“ ** _Officially_** , yes, but not in either heart or spirit. Like how we technically rule Muspelheim.” Frigga rolled her eyes.

“Well, what do they need our help with?”

“That’s the oddest part! They’ve claimed that witches have stolen their water, and they want our help to get it back.”

“Hmmm… that is peculiar.” Frigga nodded. “I could always go and try bringing it back.”

Odin looked sceptical. “I would not risk you so. Those Jotnar are beasts, I’ve no doubt they’d bring you harm.”

“Then send your best swordsman along with me.”

Odin rolled his eyes. “Wife, Thor cannot simply go off on an adventure. He’s grounded, remember!”

“Then lift it.”

“He set a boar upon Asgard City!”

“By _accident_. He was merely trying to copy one of your great feats.” Frigga reminded. “He just wants to be worthy to you.”

“Having common sense would make for a good start.” Odin grumbled. “Bah! Fine, woman! Take Thor then.”

“Thank you, love.” She smiled, kissing his cheek.

.

“This is a disaster.” Frigga swore, flopping down on her bed.

“You tried your best.” Thor reassured his mother.

_Despite Jotunheim’s no-magic laws, Frigga had been shown the dam by a reluctant Laufey, and had worked her magic to check for cracks. Finding no signs of cracks, Frigga used her seidr to begin filling the dam. Nothing happened. She frowned. She tried again. Nothing. She could feel her seidr being used, drained even, but nothing. She leant forwards and dipped her hand in- perhaps an invisibility spell had been cast on the water- but there was nothing there._

_Thor had great power of thunder and storms, etc. she instructed him to fill the dam. He made it rain, heavily._ **_Nothing._ **

_After a good seven hours out in the hot sun, they eventually retired. Defeated._

“Aye, as did you.” She sighed. “It makes no sense. There was no magic that I could feel on the dam.”

“Mayhaps it is the gods interfering?” Thor posited.

“Bah! There are no gods, son.” She shook her head. “This world is too cruel for them. Take it from an old woman who wasted the first half of her life praying for them.”

“You’re a second-born princess who got married to the King of Asgard. It sounds like your prayers worked.” Frigga’s lips quirked up just the slightest. Sweet boy. “I bet the Oracle would know.”

“Nobody’s been able to locate him in years.” Frigga shook her head. The Oracle, commonly known as the Nonacle, was thought to reside in the mountains of Vanaheim. 

“Then maybe I’ll be the first person to find him- I mean we.” Frigga smiled at her boy knowingly.

“Your father will never let me be out of the palace that long. He’s convinced the world is full of kidnappers waiting to get me into their clutches. It’s almost as though he forgets I’m a **_seidrkona_.”**

“Then maybe he will allow me to go?”

“Maybe, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup guys ;) So I DEFO shouldn't be starting new stories rn, especially with all the ones that are only half-done (if even that) but I couldn't stop myself. There's this one and then another one, I feel like I should warn you about that. I'm not sure, but that one's feeling like it might be a LONGshot- er, I mean a 'oneshot' ;) [If you've read The Executioner, you know what I mean ;)) I think I've grown addicted to absurdly long stories typed up as one chapter... I may have a problem, lol]


	2. Chapter 2

“No, no, **_absolutely not_**!” Odin waved his hands, angrily. “We’ve already sent you both over there to assess the damage. We’ve more than done our part!”

“Father-” Thor tried.

“ ** _No_**! I don’t want to hear another word on this matter, Thor! I absolutely, one-hundred percent, forbid you to go!” Odin shouted.

.

Thor, using his magical hammer crafted by the dwarves of the kingdom of Nidavellir, flew up and out of Asgard’s great wall in the dead of night. His father would undoubtedly find out about his absence the next morning, but by then Thor would be long and gone. And besides, would Odin **_truly_** punish the one who had located the Nonacle after she’d been lost for centuries? No. Thor didn’t think so.

Thor touched down in Angsburg, a city near the Vanir Mountain Range. He’d been traveling all night and needed a place to sleep (despite the budding daylight). He strode into the nearest tavern.

Inside of the tavern was a beautiful looking dark haired boy. He wore a tunic and tights and was standing behind the counter. He must be a prostitute, Thor thought, for there could be no other reason someone that attractive was in a place like this, especially in the wee hours of the morning?

“Hello there. I’m Thor. Do you know where the Innkeeper is?” Thor asked, walking towards the good-looking man. 

“That is me.” The black-haired male extended his hand. “Loki Gaiajarson.” **_Oh_**. So he- well, that kind of made sense, Thor supposed. In a tiny little village like this, probably not too much tourism, Thor could understand why he’d need to… oh well, not like Thor was judging. Prostitution was the world’s oldest profession and all that. 

“Thor Od-essajarson.” He spluttered. One mention of his father’s name and he was a goner. 

“Odessajarson? Interesting. That’d make you frommm… er, the North, then? Odessa Pietersdotter’s son, perhaps? I must admit, you do have your mother’s eyes.” Loki rambled on. 

“Er, yes, thank you.”

Loki smiled. “So you’re one of us then?”

“Er, yes.” Thor nodded, not entirely sure what ‘one of us’ meant. A prostitute? He wasn’t a prostitute. Maybe Loki meant a Northerner. Asgard was technically _west_ of Vanaheim, but he couldn’t well say he was from Asgard, now could he?

“Alright, _Odessajarson_ , what services are you in need of?” Loki leaned back, semi-flirtatiously. Thor sweated nervously. Wow, this one was forward, huh? In Asgard the prostitutes at least served you drinks first. Poor lamb probably couldn’t afford it with this economy.

“Just a room, thanks.” Thor nodded, stiffly.

“That’ll be all?” Loki asked. Oh wow! This was **_not_ **what Thor had ventured out for. He was here to find the Nonacle, not sleep with every buxom maiden- er, well, he supposed in this case it was a ‘dashing lad’ not so much a ‘breast lady’- that he came across. Oh well. It wasn’t the **_worst_** thing, he supposed. He’d done far worse, not that he was going to elaborate too much on that.

“Er, how-how much for _other_ services?” Thor asked, finally.

“Well, breakfast is included in the night’s fair. We _do_ have a menu if you choose to have lunch here, there’s also-”

“How much for your **_acquaintance_**?” Thor knew he’d said the wrong thing in the moments it had taken Loki to snap out of the shock he’d been put in.

“How much for- _I’m not a prostitute!_ ” Loki spluttered in disbelief. “I’m not- why-”

“I’m so sorry.” Thor apologised. “I’ve been travelling all night- and then I saw you in the tavern and you were so good looking and I assumed you were- I’m sorry.” The compliment was what had saved Thor’s arse. He could see it in the gleam in Loki’s eyes. It was the only reason that Thor wasn’t on the streets right now.

“Your mother didn’t tell you all that much about us, did she?”

“No… truth be told, she doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I set out on this quest to find the Nonacle. Mother thought it was a bad idea.”

“The Nonacle, eh?” Loki hummed. “He lives in the mountains somewhere, they say.” Nobody’d seen the Nonacle, The Oracle of the Nine (hence Nonacle), the chosen one of the Norns, in centuries.

“Aye.”

“Why do you seek him?”

“A plague has hit my village. We think it is the work of the gods. My mother says it’s useless, but-”

“But you want to try anyways.” Loki’s eyes scraped Thor over up and down. Thor felt like he was a piece of meat being examined by a butcher. “Hmmm… you sure do seem like the fairy-tale heroic type, I suppose. Many have gone searching for the Nonacle in the past, Odessajarson. And I must warn you, that none have come back, not even skilled mages.”

Thor shook his head. “I am different.”

“Yes, I suppose that you are. I’ve seen men twice your size who went in, and their bodies were later found outside the mountain ranges, bitten in half, mauled, you name it.” Loki stared outside from the window at the tall, blue-green, ice-capped mountains. “There was Brave Theoric, who stood as tall as a bear and had dominion over fire. We speculate that wolves got him, given the marks in his skin, but none can figure out how they would have subdued him. **_I_** think he was murdered and **_then_** fed to the wolves, personally.” Loki looked back at Thor. “Odessajarson, be warned. The Nonacle exists, without a doubt, but they are inarguably the most powerful mage in all the lands, and you do not stand a chance, no matter how many people you may think yourself capable of charming.”

Thor shook his head. “I must. My people die without it.” Well, the **_Jotnar_** died without it, and in truth Thor cared little for those people. He would, however, likely lose his head if he came back from disobeying his father empty-handed of all things. He didn’t think for even a moment that his father would hesitate over such a thing: Baldr was a spare, after all, and there was no way that Baldr would ever do something so reckless as to wind up being disavowed.

“Noble, eh? Theoric was noble too. And so was Egil, Beowulf, Artio, Bedivere, you name ‘em.” Loki shook his head. “Go back, Thor. It’s not safe for you.” 

Thor nodded. There was no point in trying to convince Loki that Thor’d be going whether Loki liked it or not.

“How much for the night then?”

“It’s already day. A half day will cost you four silver pieces.” **_Wow_** , no wonder Loki didn’t need to turn tricks to make ends meet, that price was a mini-fortune. Thor handed over what **_could_** have gotten him three days worth of food at _restaurants_ to Loki. Loki took it and handed Thor a key. “Your room’s down the hall. It’s 5 now, checkout’s at 2.” Thor nodded. **_Half a day for four silver pieces_** , he’d never felt so robbed in his life.

.

Odin was pissed when he found out.

“I swear, when he comes back he’s going to be grounded until he is **_king_** \- why did I let you talk me out of keeping him grounded!?” Odin vented to Frigga.

“He is of your blood, husband. Wherever he is, he shall be fine.” Frigga soothed. “Have some more faith in your son.”

“Bah, woman! Every man who has ventured into that mountain has died.”

“Thor is no ordinary man.”

“Neither was Theoric!” Odin still remembered the strapping young lad, built like a bear, armed with fire magic. His plan had been simple: to lure out the Nonacle by igniting the icy peaks of the Vanir Mountain Range so they’d flood the Nonacle out. And what did he get for it? Death.

“Theoric was a **_special_ **young man,” Frigga remembered the absurdly handsome male, “but he was not Thor.”

“No, I suppose not. Which is why I’m worried. Thor is not **_half_** the man Theoric was!”

“ ** _Husband_** ,” Frigga warned. “It is this constant game of comparison you play that is why your son has gone off on what will undoubtedly end his life! He’s always trying to impress you! This has nothing to do with how he feels about Jotunheim- he thinks they’re uncivilised- this has everything to do with how he feels for you!” She scolded Odin. “Maybe if you spent less time comparing him to Theoric of Tyr, he wouldn’t feel the need to do such stupid things to win your approval!”

Odin sat in silence and shook his head. “This is such a mess… of all the boneheaded things that Thor has done, this is undeniably the worst one yet.”

“Aye… with any luck he will turn back once he realises how cold it is. Thor can’t stand the cold.”

“I will get Heimdall to look for him. We cannot leave him unaccounted for any longer.” Odin stood up. “Messenger! Send word to Heimdall that Prince Thor is missing!”

“Aye, my king.” Bjorn nodded and hurried off.

“I don’t even know what he hopes to gain from this. It is obvious that the gods are uninvolved in this. This is likely the work of a scorned witch who lost his or her family thanks to Lauti’s crusade against magic.” Odin shook his head. “You know Lauti only hated magic so because **_he_** couldn’t do it, and his father made fun of him for that.” Frigga looked at Odin. “What have I made fun of Thor for now, woman?”

“His fear of lightning.” Frigga shot back. As a babe Thor had been terrified of that which he now wielded so readily.

“Yes, well, that was different. I was not Ragnar.” Odin protested.

“You wouldn’t let him sleep with us.”

“Because you’d already auctioned half our bed space off to **_Baldr_** , who as I recall it was scared of butterflies back then!”

“They are flying, winged creatures, Odin!”

“They are pests and he needed to learn that when you’re bigger than something, if you don’t like it, you should just kill it!” Frigga looked scandalised. 

“A boy? A little boy? You’re going to teach him to **_kill_**.”

“If it means I get my sleep-”

Frigga shook his head. “I am _so glad_ that both our boys are like their mothers.”

“Like women? You’re happy they’re like **_women_**?” 

“For someone blessed with wisdom by the Great Tree Yggdrasil, you sure don’t seem to be all that wise.” Frigga spat the words with venom. “Have fun warming your own bed!”

“Fine!” Odin huffed. He had no time for his moody wife, not when he had no doubt she’d likely encouraged Thor out into Vanaheim. Why? She knew of the dangers. Was she hoping he’d die so Baldr could become king? Odin shook his head of it immediately. Since Frigga had met Thor she’d been besotted. The little baby boy Odin had claimed from that mother of his all those years ago. It had been such a treat given that he and Frigga had been trying to conceive for years to no avail, and then just two years later they’d finally had a child of their own, Baldr. No, Frigga loved Thor. Was she hoping he’d succeed? Possibly. It would be remarkable if he did, but it was unlikely that he could. Even if he managed to survive, it was unlikely he would have found the Nonacle.

Not even Odin had managed to find the Nonacle when he’d gone looking: and **_he’d_** very nearly almost lost his life trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still so conflicted over whether this is going to be 'M' or 'E'... I think for now it's best to set it to 'M' even though a quick glance at my profile suggests it'll probably be 'E' 😂


	3. Chapter 3

The room Thor was lodged in was dusky. It was made of some type of dark wood that Thor had no care to learn’s name, and had a single oil-lit lamp in the centre of it, illuminating the room. The dark red curtains were drawn, but Thor had no intentions of opening them. He was here to **_sleep_** not evaluate some room fit for a peasant.

He got down on the wood and straw bed. _Wow_. 4 silver pieces for a half day and they couldn’t even afford a decent goose-feather mattress. Telling.

Nevertheless, it was a restful sleep that he got, and six hours later he’d woken up, ready to set off.

He passed Loki preparing food to be served in the front end of the tavern. Loki looked up. “That was quick. Where’re you headed off to so fast?”

“Er, back to my mother’s.” Thor lied. He didn’t have **_another_** hour to waste convincing Loki that he was travelling into that mountain range one way or another. Loki got an odd look on his face. He probably suspected something, which was fine, not like he could stop Thor or something.

“Have fun.” Loki nodded along, ominously. What the actual fuck?

.

Heimdall frowned and shook his head. “I am sorry, my king. I cannot locate Thor… there seems to be something blocking him from my Sight. It’s like a shroud.” Heimdall held up his hands to try and explain it, but Odin simply shook his head. 

“Well, he can’t have gotten far, even with Mjolnir. The Vanir Mountain Range is a treacherous one, even with the aid of a weapon like Mjolnir.”

“I can go and find him.” Odin shook his head.

“Nay, friend. You are one of Asgard’s greatest warriors, and are the only thing protecting us from being murdered in our sleep. Your power is too great to risk over the foolish actions of a boy. I shall send someone else.”

“Alright, Allfather.” Odin knew just the woman to entice Thor home.

.

The mountain range was a **_tall_** one. Not to mention that it was so frigid that eventually not even Thor could continue the flight to the peak. No, Thor had to stop when his fingers had begun to turn into ice. This place was even colder than Jotunheim- think about that: a mountain in _sunny Vanaheim_ was colder than a land cursed with frostbite by the mages it had executed. That was just depressing.

Thor had his arms crossed over himself in a desperate attempt to preserve his warmth. It wasn’t so cold that he would die, but it was enough for him to wish for warmer wear. 

Thor heard shuffling up above him and knew that it was birds moving about, though he wondered why birds would remain in such a cold area. Didn’t most birds fly south for summer? If so, then why would birds willingly _choose_ a habitat such as this to live in?

Thor trudged on. He turned his head back, from the looks of it he was going upwards, though it was getting increasingly difficult to tell which direction he was going in what with the weather conditions. Thor couldn’t even see his old footsteps, what with the snow that kept raining down on the mountain, covering them.

At some point the sun began to die, which was odd because (although Thor had never been this high anywhere) Thor had always assumed that sunsets didn’t exist past a certain height. He heard a crow caw. Wait a second. Crows weren’t supposed to be this high, were they? He was pretty sure they weren’t.

Thor arced some lightning across, creating a bright flash. Unfortunately though, it didn’t help with his illumination problems all that much. There was a second of whiteness and then all was black again. His heart raced. Whose wouldn’t? He was up in the mountains, alone, at night, with crows around, and he couldn’t see a Norns damned thing. He had his lightning, sure, but would it even be quick enough to summon if a foe should catch him off guard? What if he took a wrong step and tumbled off the mountain? He made sure to walk slower and test the ground in front of him from that thought onwards.

He didn’t have any firewood or anything, so a camp was completely out of question. Grumbling, he decided that the best thing that he could do for himself, given that he seemed to be on relatively stable ground, would be to sit down where he was and sleep there for the night. Summoning Mjolnir, he melted the snow all around him and went to bed.

The next morning was not good either. Thor woke up buried under the snow. How he could still breathe was beyond him. Either he was a god, or some weird fangirl gave him untold, mystical powers. Either way, he was grumbling and back up on his feet within minutes. He was so hungry. He wished he’d just paid for breakfast the previous morning, even though that hot barkeep likely would have charged him another 4 silver pieces for toast or something. Not that he was salty.

Thor rummaged in his backpack for some food. He had packed **_some_** , but was trying to ration it so as not to starve on his first day of questing (Verdandi, could you **_imagine_** how embarrassing that would be?). He fished out some nuts and dried meat. It would keep him going for a while, surely.

The snow had stopped falling, which was good for Thor’s vision. He could see that he was near the top of the mountain. He frowned. He was **_very_** near the top of the mountain. So near that he could see it. And there was nobody on the top. He lifted Mjolnir. Well, with the snow not falling anymore, it wouldn’t be so bad flying up the last 50 or so metres, surely. Perhaps then he could get a view of what lay down below.

Thor flew up and peered over the edge.

And saw more snow.

This was so pointless.

He was about to curse and give up when he realised that to his bottom right, there was a non-snow-covered area. A valley of sorts, below where the snow started. It had a path on it. _That_ must be the way to the Nonacle. He launched himself with Mjolnir once more. He was going to see the Nonacle!

.

The valley was a beautiful area, a true representation of Vanaheim, even if it was in the Vanaheim Mountain Ranges, isolated, and not in the main area of the kingdom itself.

The path he’d seen earlier? A cobblestone bridge. The sides of the light-brown stone bridge had roses growing out of them. The mini-hills (how did a mountain have mini-hills? Was this a normal thing? Was it his mind simply supplying a description for what he saw without knowing the terminology?) On either side of him were lush and green and laden with fruit. This was a far cry from the horrid suffering he’d endured the previous day. Thor was willing to bet that every single person in Loki’s list of who’d died here had only died because they hadn’t made it this far.

From here it was bound to be bliss.

.

Amora looked up from the letter Odin had sent her about Thor. She clicked her fingers, a pen and paper appearing before her, and wrote:

_Dear King Odin,_

_I shall accept your offer under one condition: Should I be the one to bring Thor home, he shall be mine for marriage._

_Yours,_

_Amora the Enchantress_

.

After walking for about 8 hours, Thor was beginning to think that the road he was on wasn’t going to take him anywhere. Come to think of it, the sun in the sky hadn’t moved all day either. Odd.

Thor glanced to the side… that purple flower he’d seen on one of the hills earlier… that was still there. He turned around and began to walk in the direction from which he’d come.

.

Odin read the note and frowned, considering crumpling it up immediately.

Amora of all women? As his son’s bride? The Queen of Asgard? _Fat chance!_

And then, as if by fate herself, Freyja of all people walked in. You know, his super annoying sister-in-law. Sister to his wife, wife to his brother, enemy of his… _that_ Freyja. He remembered when his father had tried to make it so that he would marry Freyja and Vili would marry Frigga. He got it into his father-in-law’s ears that Asgard would likely seek to exploit Vanaheim with Odin and Vili both outranking their wives in title, and also that Vili would destroy Vanaheim (that one hadn’t been a lie… they’d come up with some shoddy excuse about Vili being younger than Vé ( ** _that_** **_one_** had been a lie) in order to save face because Vili was such a train wreck of a man) and the order had been reversed. Frigga, as third in line for the throne was outranked by Odin’s first (not that it mattered, they were equals as far as anything was concerned), and Freyja outranked Vé as she was tied for first for throne with Freyr, and Vé was second/third depending on who you asked.

Odin sometimes thought that Freyja resented him for changing up who they’d be marrying. After all, look at Asgard as compared to Vanaheim. Look at his marriage with Frigga in comparison to Freyja’s marriage with Vé? No wonder Freyja was so bitter all the time.

“Brother-in-law, what’s got you in such a mood?” Odin could see her eyeing the note in his hand. “Not a lover, I take it?”

“Amora requests Thor’s hand in exchange for her returning him home.”

“Interesting…” Odin could never be certain of Freyja’s intentions for Thor. He **_wanted_** to believe that she loved him the same way she loved Baldr, but at the end of the day no denial could be made that Baldr was of her blood and Thor was not. “If I were you, I’d take the deal.”

“You cannot be serious.” Odin spluttered. “Amora would be **_queen_**!”

“Not quite… I say you take the deal, but you make it an impossible task. Say, if she is to find him within a fortnight and bring him home, she can have him. If not she gets nothing.”

“That’s deceptive.”

“Aye.”

“And what is to stop her from fulfilling such a task? She is a skilled seidrkona.”

Freyja smiled and shook her head. “Skilled she may be… but it is _your son_ she’s trying to bring home. If he’s anything like his father, it’ll take a year at least to drill it into his head that he is to **_return_** immediately, and not waste time frolicking in the fields.”

Odin considered her words. While true that it was indeed quite a task, he was always hesitant to trust Freyja. “I’ll think about it.” He dismissed her. The idea was good… too good… hmmm…

.

Thor had eventually taken Mjolnir and flown over the bridge. That thing was like half a kilometre long! How had it taken him **_hours_** walking both ways? What sorcery was this?

He landed by a gulley. Suddenly it seemed as though the sun had started working once more. What was going on? Was some trickster spirit playing jokes on him? Was this a test from the gods? A test to see if he was worthy of seeking the Nonacle? Perhaps. Either way, it was getting dark.

He heard a movement behind him. A big one. Turning, he found himself staring into _giant_ big, red, beady eyes. He whirled Mjolnir around as the dragon shot its fire at him, managing to avoid getting burnt to a crisp. Wow that fire was hot! It must have been something like 500-600 degrees! That was 5 to 6 times the boiling point of water, and at least 10 times the boiling point of one Mr. Thor Odinson.

Thor arced lightning at the dragon, but it bounced off the brute’s scales. **_What?_** The beast lunged for Thor, but he flung Mjolnir at it, sending it back, shrieking in agony. The magical hammer found its way back into Thor’s hand as he braced himself for another attack. He heard movement behind him. Heavy too. _Oh crap_!

Thor flung Mjolnir once more, desperate. But even he knew that he could not fight off two dragons. Was this it? Was this the end of Thor Odinson? Was his father right? The Jotnar certainly weren’t worth this, were they?

Wait. Why wasn’t he dead yet? Thor glanced around in the dimming light. The two huge, hulking shapes were hunched over. Unmoving. Still. Actually no, on second glance they seemed to be struggling, but for some reason they couldn’t move. Odd. Why was this happening: and whatever it was that **_was_** happening, should Thor be scared? 

“I **_warned you_** about this place.” An all-too familiar voice droned. Thor nearly shat his pants.

_Loki_.

.

Loki had been walking for a full two days, ever since the idiot had left the inn. He **_knew_ **Thor hadn’t been heading ‘back to his mother’, what kind of idiot did the blond buffoon take him for?

He explained such as he set up a fireplace for the camp he and Thor had built. The dragons laid dead, killed by a lack of air by the grace of his conjured vines. It helped that most of the magic his mother had taught him was earth magic.

“How did you catch up with me so quickly though?” Thor asked, accepting Loki’s offered soup. It seemed that only one of them had thought to pack food. Loki watched the other man slurp his soup up hungrily. Odessa’s son needed to learn some table manners, for an elf he was awfully barbaric.

“I took the stairs.” Loki shrugged as though it were obvious.”

“ _Stairs_?”

“Yes. The ones at the base of the mountain.” Loki said, slowly. How else could the buffoon have travelled up here. “The question I should be asking is how it took you so long to get here. I left _hours_ after you did.”

“I flew.”

“You _flew?”_

“Yes.”

“How? I can’t fly.”

“Well, it’s by the aid of my hammer, Mjolnir.” Thor twirled his pretty girl around. “I spin her around and the momentum pulls me off-”

“Your hammer pulls you off?” Loki stifled a laugh (not well) at the idea of it. Thor flushed. 

“No, it’s not- I didn’t- you just took my words and twisted them.” Thor pouted, deflating slightly.

“It’s what I do.” Loki shrugged. “Sort of how like being a complete idiot is what you do.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“And yet here you are.”

“You’re here too.”

“So I can **_rescue you_**. It’s what us heroes do.” Loki flipped his hair playfully.

“Hero, huh?” Thor snorted. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Who killed the dragons?”

“Bah! I would have been fine!” Loki’s blood boiled. He tactfully chose not to say anything more about that.

“You would have been **_eaten.”_** Okay, but like how could he not?

“My seidr is **_lightning_** , Loki.”

“Ah yes… how could I be so foolish as to think that dragons wouldn’t suffer the same heating effect as the rest of us when subjected to lightning strikes? Or that their scales render them immune to magic or something.” Loki shrugged. “Good thing all I could do was strangle them to death.”

Thor sighed. “I suppose that you are right and are owed a thanks.”

Loki smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m not **_giving_** you a thanks, but you are owed one.”

Loki used one of his vines to swat Thor at the back of his head.

.

Laufey stared at the herald in dismay. His northern lords had sent back word that their crops had frozen over. The north had been the only region of Jotunheim left untouched in all of these freak disasters. Now they would have no food left to feed the people. They’d already nearly used up the grain storage as was.

“Bring in Jarnsaxa.” Laufey sighed, beckoning a servant over. What choice did Jotunheim have left other than a marriage pact with another kingdom? If not this then they would surely starve. But who was good enough for Kella’s son?

He crossed out Asgard _immediately_. No child of Jotunheim would be wedding an Aesir. Vanaheim? Perhaps… and it would surely piss of Odin too, given his close family ties to the region. Vanaheim was bountiful. And Jotunheim could offer them ice in return. Jotunheim’s ice was coveted throughout the Nine Kingdoms, for it was the ice used to make all the fine ice creams.

“Father, you called?” Jarnsaxa asked, stepping into the room. 

“Yes, son. I have decided that you are to marry Crown-Prince Njord of Vanaheim.” Laufey smiled. He’d take second prince Vali if he **_had_** to, but might as well be ambitious. Besides, Vé likely wished to piss of Odin too, the brothers did not get along, so it wasn’t a long shot.

“Oh. Thanks, father.” Jarnsaxa bowed and saw his way out. Not like he hadn’t seen this coming, though it was weird that Byleistr and Helblindi weren’t getting auctioned off before him. Oh well, such was life.

.

Gaia was in a panic.

Her son was missing. Loki had just _up and left_! And he hadn’t said a word to her or anything about it! Had he been kidnapped? Had he run off with some lover she was unaware of- that boy read too many romance novels, dammit! 

He was a skilled seidrmadr, yes, but he also had an overinflated ego (she was partly to blame for that). Her son was as good as dead. **_Especially_** if another seidrmadr had kidnapper him. There were deep and dark aspects of what seidrfolk did. Loki would be helpless against them, but was also the type of person who would probably think he could handle them.

She got up, ignoring her illness. She needed to make a scrying pond, and she needed to make one quick.

.

Amora yawned, getting out of her plush bed and donning her neon-pink, satin robe. Unnatural colour, the mark of a sorceress. It was also why she wore neon green.

Under her front door was a letter. She smirked, picking it up and knowing what it would say before she even read it. 

_I have accepted your negotiation for one month’s time to bring home Thor. If you should fail in this, however, then you shall be paid nothing and shall additionally be banished from Asgard for the rest of your life._

Deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter took a while, huh? 😅


	4. Chapter 4

“You can’t be serious.” Loki deadpanned. “Thor- just last night you would have **_died_** without me!” One hour. One whole hour they’d been awake and Thor was already making plans to head out further into this hellhole? Did he _not_ see the two, colossal, fifty-feet-tall dragons laying dead at their feet?

“Loki, I **_must_**.” Thor insisted, packing his rucksack up. “People will _die_!”

“They’ll die anyways, and _you included,_ whether or not you continue with this mad quest! Thor- the Nonacle has not been seen in _hundreds of years!_ Do you **_genuinely_** think that that’s because _nobody went looking!?_ ” Had Thor even _listened_ to his tale of _Theoric_?

Thor sighed. “Have you never wondered the answer to a question so great that you’d be willing to lay down your life for it?” Yes.

“Why do you seek this question so?”

Thor looked down, oh, so he did have shame. “I must fulfil this quest… I must return home a victor and prove myself a champion in the eyes of my father.” Fuck.

“Fine. I shall come along _with you_ to aid in your quest.” Loki sighed, dramatically. “Since it is evident that without my intervention you shall die fairly fast.” Loki regretted his benevolence the moment that the Odessajarson’s smile hit his face. 

Stupid goofy smile, should’ve left him for the dragons.

.

And of course that cunt of a son of hers had kept his cloak of seidr on. Oh, she would _kill him_ as soon as he got home!

.

Amora arrived at Gaia’s Inn around noon. She’d flown overnight with the help of Freyja’s feathered cloak.

“Yoohoo!” She walked in, giving a little twirl. She was feminine, so what? It was her damn right to express herself. She spied a weary, haggard, old-looking wench behind the bar and approached her. “‘xcuse me, miss! Have you seen a big, blond man come by here?” She asked.

The lady turned over to her. Amora peered at the woman’s feet from over the bar. Was that a scrying pool? “Nay… but if you are looking for your lover, it is likely he has run off with my son.”

“Son?” Amora grimaced. Not Thor with someone else. She thought she’d fucked it out of him the last time. Then again, maybe this woman was wrong. Why would Thor go off on a dangerous quest with some beggar barmaid’s son? She clearly wasn’t a seidrkona, because that scrying pool was **_flat_**.

“Aye.”

“You must have me confused. My blond man went off into the Vanir Mountain Range.” The barmaid nearly fainted. Amora heard her mutter ‘Oh, Loki.’

Gaia was in quite the conundrum, you see. Those mountains were dangerous, sure, Gaia knew that, _Loki_ knew that, but back in the day Gaia cold have braved those mountains easily. She **_had_** braved those mountains… once. But now, at forty-two, that was a dangerous undertaking… this girl, however, she seemed noble (that was, of noble blood, not of noble intent. Still, as long as she had an incentive to return Loki…) so she’d be a skilled seidrkona.

“Those mountains are dangerous… however, I can give you my cloak. It is magic proof… under the condition that you find and return to me my son.”

“Let me see this cloak.” Amora scoffed.

Gaia took her cloak off and handed it to Amora. As soon as it was on her, Gaia shot a firestorm the likes of which Amora had never seen at her. Amora was safe. “As you can see, this cloak will keep you safe. As long as you stay true to my task of returning my son, you may use it to aide you in your quest.”

“How do you know so much about seidr?” Asked a dazed Amora.

Gaia just smiled and went back to her scrying pool.

.

“Are you mad? You would take the word of my sister in this?” Frigga hissed.

Odin sighed, resignedly. “My dear, it has already been agreed upon.”

“She has never forgiven you, you know, of cheating her out of your hand! She resented me too for a long time! You do not realise that she would seek revenge over you through having your firstborn marry that dumb blonde bitch!” Frigga shrieked, pulling at her hair. “Freyja’s seidr lies in love, _as does Amora’s_!! They are one in the same! My son shall marry a _nincompoop_! And then what!? Does he lose the crown over this too?!” She was hyperventilating. 

She did _not_ want to know what the love-child of Amora and Thor would look like. Nope, nu uh.

“Frigga, my sweet. Relax. And Thor is not my firstborn son, that would be Tyr, remember.”

“Aye, but Thor is not a bastard! I encouraged you have him because we’d been having trouble conceiving, remember? He was a **_consensual_** child, remember?” Frigga groaned. “She would regard him as your first… and he is the most like you! Oh, Freyja just loves ruining **_everything_**!”

“Well do not worry, wife. She will not succeed in her quest in any case, **_and_** Asgard will be free of her menace.”

“Yes…” she let her husband have his way. “Yes, I suppose.” Orally at least. She needed to find Baldr quick, because the current male heads of their family were **_absolute idiots_** , and she was the only sane person left, dammit!

.

“What does King Laufey want?” Freyja asked, eyeing her husband’s note.

“To create an allegiance through marriage to Njord.” Vé replied.

“Who is he offering?” She frowned.

“Jarnsaxa.” Freyja contemplated it for a bit. Jarnsaxa was a bit of an airhead, everybody and their mother knew that. Still, he was good-looking, and it would bring some of that _delicious_ Jotunn ice cream back into the realm.

“What are your thoughts?” Freyja asked, though she had already made up her mind.

Vé sighed. “Jarnsaxa has no sisters to bear Njord’s heir for him.”

“I’m sure Laufey has a bastard daughter laying around somewhere.” Freyja said, candidly. “And if not, there’s always Vili’s bastard daughter, Aria.”

“That seems a tad much to ask of my brother.”

“You are his king. He has no choice.”

“You seem awfully keen on this.”

“It’ll piss of your brother.” Feyja shrugged.

“I accept.”

.

Bears. In case you were wondering what else could have been thrown at them: bears.

Not just any bears either. Loki was becoming increasingly frustrated with the number of magic-proof animals in this region of the world. He could understand dragons being immune to magic- but **_bears_**!?

Thankfully, Thor’s seidr seemed to have only been ineffective on the dragons.

“We should collect their meat… we have no idea when the next meal we’ll get will be.” Loki pointed out. And so they cut out the bears’ meat and Loki added the bearskins to a magical space-pocket. At Thor’s perplexed expression, he answered “In case we get cold.”

“You are one weird cookie.”

Loki shrugged. “I’ve learned to be resourceful… my mother didn’t always have a tavern, you know?”

Thor shook his head. “What’s the story with you anyways? I’d’ve guessed you were a pauper but you use **_seidr_** , the highest form of witchcraft, which could only imply that you’re of noble blood.”

“My mother… she was once a noble. She slept with some man out of wedlock. He dipped, she had me anyways, left her family to escape the ridicule.” So he was bending a bit in his mother’s favour, sue him.

“That’s rough… I can’t imagine the sort of man so dastardly and cowardly that he would run out on his pregnant lover.” Thor shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear.”

“It’s okay. So, what’s _your_ story?”

“My story?”

“Yeah. What’s it like in the west?”

“In the we-? Uh…” Oh right, fuck. He couldn’t let Loki know that he was an Odinson. “Mother met a nice man, they settled down and had myself and my brother, Baller.”

“ _Baller?”_

“Aye. Father was a sportsman back in his prime.” And the name was easy to remember and non-give-y-away-ey.

Loki wrinkled his nose. “That’s such a weird name.”

“So is Thor.”

Loki shrugged. “I don’t know… given that you’re named for a thunder god, and your seidr is lightning-centric, I’d say they lucked out with you… for all I know, your brother really is a baller.” That brought a smile to Thor’s face.

.

Baldr had set out on his caramel-brown steed as soon as his mother had told him of the situation. He’d bid farewell to his beloved, Nanna, and had given her a smooch for good luck.

“You could always take me with you.” She offered, but he shook his head. She was standing outside of her cosy little cottage, in that green dress of hers that always put a smile on his face. They’d had an evening planned a few days from then, but Baldr wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to make it given the drama with his brother.

“This quest is dangerous, and much as I’d love to have you by my side in any situation, you are not a seidrkona… you could die. I cannot allow that to happen.”

“You’d protect me.” She countered, pouting.

“Aye, but that’s just too many tasks for one man to carry out then, my love.” He laughed and kissed her again. He set off then, leaving the girl he planned to marry one day behind for the time being as he rode off on good old Galileo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True to this fairytale storyline, I’ve decided to include wicked relatives (including Freyja, whom I usually portray as being quite nice. Sorry, Freyja fans!)


	5. Chapter 5

Raga sat on Jarnsaxa’s bed, combing his hair neatly for him as he complained about his impending marriage.

“I mean, Vanaheim’s not that great anyways! I always thought that father would marry me off to a bigger and better kingdom, even if it meant marrying outside of the Nine.”

“Cheer up, my prince. They say that the Light Elves are **_very_** good looking! And also, with the union of Jotunheim and Vanaheim, two great kingdoms, mayhems one day we can challenge Asgard’s superiority and topple them like they did our ancestors.”

“Hmmm… I see your point. Can you hand me one of those chocolate-covered strawberries, please?” Jarnsaxa asked. He was _famished_.

“Certainly.” She popped one in his mouth. “Oh well, at least your father is acknowledging your sexual preferences. Byleistr’s bisexual, I think we both know that that means your father will force a wife upon him.”

Jarnsaxa hummed. “I mean, I don’t know enough about bisexuality, but I don’t think he’d be _unhappy_ with being tied down to either gender. Besides, everybody knows these marriages are simply a cover-up. Even if father had married me to a woman, there’d have been _zero_ expectation of me to sleep with her, except to impregnate her. I’d actually rather it have been a woman, I think. It just gets more messy this way.” Jarnsaxa wrinkled his nose.

“Well, it seems the Borsons failed to produce any female offspring… except that Hela girl, wonder whatever happened to her.”

“No clue. Another strawberry?” Raga handed him one more.

“I also hear that Bor’s descendants have big dicks.” Raga whispered conspiratorially.

Jarnsaxa snorted. “Well, I won’t be sharing my husband’s bed, so I guess I won’t be finding out about that.”

“Why must you be such a pessimist, huh?” She flicked his head. “What you are doing is for the good of the people.”

“Aye… I suppose it is simply shock. I wasn’t expecting to be married off so soon, and especially not before my brothers.”

“Do not fret, my prince. Your father would never throw you into the hands of some moral coward. Instead, rejoice. This is the start of a new life for you, one without Jotunheim’s eternal winter. You will have a new crowd of people to win over to your side. And, if all goes well, you shall have all of Nine under your feet by the time your first child has come of age to wed.”

“But Vanaheim has mages… I do not know what is going on in father’s head, and I am not so sure that it should be trusted.”

.

“We’ve been walking for _three days_!” Thor groaned. 

“ ** _You_** were the one who wanted to find the Nonacle,” an irritated Loki snapped. This was all Thor’s fault. **_Everything_** was Thor’s fault- wow, wait, that was extreme and harsh. Where had that remark come from?

“Aye, but so far we’ve fought off: dragons, bears, an ‘inescapable’ maze- good thing I had Mjolnir- quicksand, flying monkeys, a witch doctor, and a banshee! How have we seen **_all of these things_** and yet no Nonacle!?”

“Because they all wanted to be found… the Nonacle doesn’t!” A voice called. The voice came from a man with a cane, seated up on a wall they hadn’t noticed. He wore harem-pants and a muscle-top. He had black hair and brown eyes and a bit of a goatee but not that much. His face was chiselled, and his skin tan. “Sorry guys, you’ve passed all my tests. Now I _have_ to kill you.”

.

Jana passed a letter onto Adva who passed a letter onto Cyrill who passed a letter onto Egil who passed the letter onto Odin.

“Laufey has arranged a wedding between his son and Vé’s.” Odin cursed. “This must be their plan, weaken Asgard with Amora as Queen while strengthening their own two kingdoms.”

Frigga shook her head. “Well, I know not what they hope to accomplish with this. Thor could fell the Jotunn army in his sleep, they’d be stupid to think they’d stand a chance against us all.”

“Be that as it may, they’d definitely try and invade.”

Frigga paused. “Wait a second: why would **_Laufey_** of all people- hater of magic in all of its glorious forms- marry his **_son_** into the **_Vanir_** Royal Family? A family that is **_synonymous_** with magic- in **_all_** of its forms.”

Odin frowned. “That is the puzzling part, isn’t it… why not to Muspelheim? Or Midgard? Perhaps it is because Jarnsaxa is not expected to **_breed_** with Njord? Perhaps it is because, despite his namesake Njord I, Njord II is not particularly adept at seidr?”

Frigga shook her head. “I cannot understand how Vé could even be considering this! His people are free-spirited and love magic. Surely he realises that should Laufey gain any leverage in Vanaheim, that joy shall be swept out quicker than Laufey can say ‘burn them all!’”

“He’s doing it to piss me off… they both are… you know, I’ve always thought that they were rather unhappy with how our marriages turned out.” Odin sighed, head in his hands. 

“Yes, well, I was rather unhappy too, if you remember.”

“Oh, I remember.” One did not typically forget it when their wife slept around with their two brothers… “The difference is that you got over it and they haven’t.”

Frigga let out a breath. “Well, what are we going to do then, huh? Surely they are only allying themselves to attack Asgard.”

“As I have said, Thor is more than capable of taking the Jotnar.”

“ _As they are_. What if they were to have the Vanir cloak them with magic or something? The Jotnar are very fond of their Berserker heritage, husband…” Frigga said, ominously.

“Well what would you have me do then, love? Demand Jarnsaxa be married to Thor?” Frigga went silent. “You cannot be serious! Let Vanaheim be cursed with him! We will not muddy our gene pool so much as to have the next heir of Asgard be a half **_Jotunn_**!”

“So then what? We let the people pay for our pride?” Odin shook his head.

“Nay… but we let this serve as a reminder that whomever Thor marries must come from a powerful kingdom.”

“You already promised him off to Amora.” Frigga deadpanned.

“We both know that she’ll fail. I bet she’s half dead as we speak.”

.

Amora was making good pace on Thor and Loki. She still didn’t believe that the boy would be with Thor, but she’d temporarily gained custody of a pretty nifty cape out of the whole affair. She’d taken to referring to Loki as ‘the boy’ because she somehow doubted that a mother would be that worried over anything other than a child.

She had already crossed a stream and bridge. The arrow on her tracking spell was getting shorter which meant she was getting closer.

Oh! It had been so long since she had seen Thor! She wondered how much he’d missed her. Probably lots. Ooh! He must have grown a bit and filled-out! **_Yum!_**

She walked on past snowy mountain tops and red-flowered meadows. How did this place gain a reputation fo being so dangerous?

.

Thor shot lightning at the strange man, whose eyes turned red. The lightning bounced right off of him. He flung Mjolnir. Mjolnir **_missed_**. 

Loki tried to capture the man with his vines, but that too did nothing.

The man clapped his hands and the entire mountain top began to shake. Thinking fast, Loki reached into his space pocket and pulled out a tub. The man threw a knife at Loki, which Thor promptly knocked out of the air with a quick bit of wind manipulation that came with his powers.

Loki unscrewed the lid and took out a bead, throwing it at the man. The man dodged, but the bead exploded and he fell down.

“What just happened?” Thor breathed, still high on adrenaline. “Did you kill him?”

“No. It’s one of my mother’s knock-out beads. She keeps them available just incase we ever get a problematic customer. I nicked them before I left.” Loki huffed. “Hurry, we need to leave while he’s till knocked out.”

“And do what? He will find us again and surely attack us. We need to take care of this problem now.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Thor lifted Mjolnir, suggestively. Loki’s eyes widened. “Oh no, no, _no_. Thor, killing a beast is one thing, you cannot **_kill a man_**!”

“And what if he is to kill us? Besides, this is no ordinary man, he actively tried to kill us.”

Loki, who had grown up fairly sheltered what with being raised by a single, **_powerful_** mother whom nobody dared fuck with, in a peaceful kingdom, in a quiet area of the kingdom, simply shook his head. “Thor-”

“Loki, you complain about the beasts, but _who_ had the power to send them? It is not even a simple case of ‘what if he finds us?’ It’s a case of ‘what next will he send after us?’”

Loki bit his lip. “Fine, barbarian. But I shan’t watch.”

“As though that will absolve you of it.” Thor muttered under his breath. He gave Loki a head start, then struck the man with lightning, his body a blaze of rotting flesh as he walked away to join the most annoying person in the Nine Kingdoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know Loki’s refusal to kill a person may seem OOC, but I feel like it’s important to evaluate how different life circumstances may warp a person’s view on what classifies as right or wrong. He’ll get increasingly more on board with the idea that if someone’s attacking you you might need to use brute force, but for now he’s not quite there yet.


	6. Chapter 6

Njord did not want to get married.

“It’s ironic, really, you getting married young.” His little brother, Vali, laughed. “Grandpa Njord got married when he was 8.”

“That young?” Njord gaped.

“Well, marriage was a bit different then. The bride came to live with the groom’s family, but they didn’t spend time together until they were in their early twenties,” Vali rambled, ever the history-buff.

“Still weird.”

“Agreed.”

Njord was 20, the same age as his cousin, Thor. While none could argue that this was a ‘child’ being married off, it still didn’t sit quite right with him. He was expected to live about 80 years, so why was he getting bound to somebody else in the first _quarter_ of his lifespan? Vali, by contrast, was 16. There was no way that 16 year old Vali wasn’t realising that now that Njord was getting married, Vali was up next on the chopping block.

“I don’t even understand. Laufey quite famously **_hates_** magic.”

“Aye, but you do not have much in you, despite our parents being seidrfolk. Nor does Aria, whom I’m assuming would be called upon for child-bearing purposes.”

“That does not change that magic is the way of our people.”

“Perhaps he wills to destroy the joy of magic in you. Everyone knows Lauti only turned against his own kingdom’s magicians because he himself was born weak.”

“Born weak?”

“Sorry, brother, but we both know that for all your strength I could still burn you on the spot.”

“Fair point.” Njord sighed. “I never thought I’d be marrying a man.”

“Well, aside from the consummation, you have no obligation to sleep with him at all. You can still live your life.” Vali reassured. “You can date Selma or Saskia or Velma.” 

Njord nodded at his brother. “You’re right, you’re right. I’ve nothing to worry about, except for that a snake is about to enter my house.”

“Aye.”

.

Inside a cave, a woman sat. She brewed her potions and bottled them up. 

She was dying. There was no way around that fact. She’d been ill for a long time now.

The Nonacle, they called her. The Oracle of the Nine, the Norns’ Gift to Mankind. She didn’t feel like much of a gift, not now.

A vision hit her, she held her head. Her hair pressed up against the palm of her hands: damp, thin, patchy. Her eyesight had been going wonky as of late too. 

She’d been held captive for centuries now by a woman who was unhappy with her fate. Well what did she want her to do, change it? Tell her the words she wanted to hear? She was bound by **_fate_** dammit!

For the first century, Cassandra had hoped that her little boy, Angrboda, would be able to save her from this hell. But that was a full three centuries ago, he was long dead by now. She knew, from some of her visions, that he had left behind a bastard daughter, but what good was she when she herself had died 380 years ago? And her two sons 395 and 368 years ago respectively? Since then the line had been murky. Cassandra sometimes caught fleeting glimpses of the descendants of her line, but they were all so far removed from her that it was unlikely that they would have ever heard her story, let alone come to save her.

She supposed she’d just be trapped in the Jotunheim Mountain Range forever.

.

After killing that weird guardian-man, the path to the Nonacle was made exponentially easier for Thor and Loki. No weird illusions, no mystical beasts, **_nothing_**.

Loki had not yet thanked Thor for killing the person _behind_ those attacks, but whatever, at least he hadn’t bitched about it either. Loki’s good-look effect was starting to wear off for Thor. 

For those of you unaware: the good-look effect is a short-lived phenomenon where when somebody who is attractive enough that you might have a partial crush on them (without **_necessarily_** being either sexually or romantically interested in them) speaks, you ignore the bullshit because you’re captivated by them. That ship had sailed as far as Thor was concerned with Loki, around the time he’d laughed when a branch had hit Thor in the face. Annoying minx.

“There’s no clear sign of her.” Thor lamented. 

“Or him.”

“It could be a him.” Thor acknowledged. Then, did ancient beings sent by the Norns ever truly have a gender? He supposed he’d find out when he met the Nonacle themself. “Could you use your magic to scour the range?”

“I’ve tried that already, but my powers seem to be out-of-signal here. Something’s blocking them.”

“I’ve tried my wind, and the same thing happened. Odd. One would assume that if that man had been the only person responsible for the mishappenings in this mountain range, then killing him should have solved our problems.”

“What if he was working in a team?” Loki pondered.

“Hmm… a team of people each with their own special brand of magical. One able to nullify search-type magic, another able to summon beasts, others able to do who knows what… interesting hypothesis.” Thor nodded. “Not unlikely, I suppose. Were he alone in this mountain range, he likely would have gone mad.”

“True. Elongated periods of isolation do that to people.”

“Indeed. Did you have any friends growing up?” Thor asked as they walked on.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just that the town seemed pretty old, I would have guessed you to be the youngest one there, to be honest.”

“I had friends, Thor, not even I am a complete hermit… they never stayed long though, they moved away often. As you said, most people who live in that town are old, and most young people tend to be their grandkids… the only young people who ever stuck around long were the bullies.” Loki griped wryly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“What was life like in the west?”

“The west? Er, the social scene there’s much younger.” Thor figured that he could more or less describe his childhood, just leave out the bit where he **_wasn’t_** some poor peasant boy with a distant father, that he happened to be a glorious, well-adorned prince with a distant father instead. “It’s a big, lake-side town,” okay, he made that one up. “Lots of festivals and partying. Yeah, I had a few friends,” understatement of the century, “we went on quests together and stuff.”

“We’re on a quest together now… does that make us friends?”

Thor thought about that one for a while. “I suppose it does.”

“Neat.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me more about West Vanaheim.” Loki asked.

“Well, the fields and scenery are a lot like, uhm… sorry, I didn’t catch the name of your town?”

“Angsburg.”

“Angsburg, thanks. Anyways, the scenery’s pretty similar. Mother has her own rose garden-”

“Odessa likes roses?” Loki wrinkled his nose. “Odd for one of the Dark Ones, but alright I guess.”

“Well, mother may dabble in the dark arts but there’s no shame in enjoying a dozen roses positioned picture perfectly. Plus, she likes using them in perfume.”

“Makeup. Now there’s some dark-magic right there.” Loki chuckled. “You know there’s a shade of red some witches wear on their lips that enchants anyone who dares to look at it?”

“Do I?” Now it was Thor’s turn to chuckle. “There was this girl in the village I grew up with, Amora. She absolutely **_lived_** for that shade. It’s made out of, ooh, what’s the name again? Venomous Night-Red Rose or something!”

“Venomous Nightshade Red Rosebite,” Loki smiled in offering.

“Yes, that’s the one! She used to wear it all the time, I never once did not fall for it.” Thor admitted.

“I can see why she wore it.” It might have been Thor’s imagination, but he _swore_ Loki’s eyes just raked over him.

“We called her The Enchantress because of it… I’m still not convinced my mother doesn’t wear a dab of it from time to time.”

“My mother uses the rose-pigment in her blush. She hasn’t been laid in twenty years, but she **_loves_** wearing it.”

“And how would you know if she’d been laid or not?”

“The walls in our tavern are even thinner than paper, and **_worse_** at keeping the cold out. The only reason we even own that thing is because property tax is less if it’s a business.”

“Oh, tax-evader, are we?”

“Exploit the rules, **_bend_** the rules, just don’t break the rules.” Loki shrugged in a way that told Thor that Loki broke the rules all the damned time.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a trickster.”

“I was in training, but my mother called me back. Couldn’t bear to be without me.” Loki said, for the first time that day sounding bitter about something. It seemed like Thor’d struck a nerve. Too bad he was too dense to notice it.

“Why not?”

“I’m her only family.”

Thor paused. “Whoever your father was, he is a scoundrel.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

.

“My-my King.” Rudolph fell forwards in front of Laufey, unable to support himself.

Laufey looked down at him, impassively, though with a grave heaviness in his heart. Rudolph was the messenger of his Lord in the North, and now he lay dead at Laufey’s feet, a near frozen solid block of ice. He didn’t need to be told to know that there was basically no point in sending aid to the North. That they were all likely dead by now.

“I shall be off to my chambers.” Laufey said. “Somebody get that man a warm bath. If he is alive by morning, I shall see him.” Laufey stood up and walked off to his chambers, leaving the man behind. 

His son, Helblindi, raced to him in the corridors. “Father, I’ve just been informed that another farm has gone completely barren. The farmer went to harvest his crops and pulled up this.” Helblindi held a root with a black bulb on the end of it. “Father, what can have caused all of this?”

“Witchcraft.” Laufey grunted. They needed the old knights back.


	7. Chapter 7

It was on the fourth day of hunting for the Nonacle post!guardian!death that they came across a cobblestone path. Upon following said path, they found a cave entrance.

“This must be the Nonacle’s abode.” Thor gaped, staring at the entrance.

“Well, go ahead. Enter.” Loki prompted, wanting to send Thor in to test it out first.

“Ok- wait, what about you?”

“I’ll wait outside for you?”

“ ** _Loki_**.”

“Fine.” They walked into the cave _together_.

Inside the cave sat a woman. She was young, beautiful. She had black, curly hair, all done up like some sort of crown. Her eyes were closed, she was meditating. In front of her sat a scrying pond, but where both Loki and Thor’s respective mothers had crystal-clear, still waters for their ponds, hers was lime-green and swirling. From the scrying pond erupted a billow of smoke, and the Nonacle opened her eyes.

“You’re not Arges. What do you two bozos want?” Loki frowned. Shouldn’t she _know_ what they wanted? She was the Nonacle and all.

“My name is-” Thor started, but was interrupted. 

“Thor, yes, yes. And he is Loki. I already **_know_** that. What I want to know is why and **_how_** you have found my cave?” Wow, this lady was **_rude_**.

“We have come in search of you for advice on how to end the curses Jotunheim is suffering.”

The Nonacle let out a breath out. “Well, that’s a toughie, isn’t it? Jotunheim’s curse is well-deserved. It is the work of a bitter sorcerer who lost much to Laufey’s war. The only way to end it, I suppose, is to seek the aide of the gods, but it is unlikely that they shall give you that.”

“And why not?”

“Because gods help when all is right or all is wrong.” She looked dead-on at Loki and Thor. “And neither of those things are true, now are they?”

“Speak clear, sorceress.”

Her eyes flashed purple briefly, and she seemed to go into a state. “Go to Jotunheim. Meet with Laufey. Seek Jarnsaxa. Only a prince can right a wrong, and he’s the only prince capable of it.” 

.

It was fate, pure fate, and nothing but fate that prevented Amora from finding the pair of them. They happened to have taken the left way out as she _just_ located the cave.

“Hello, you must be the Nonacle.” Amora greeted the woman with the absurdly curly hair.

“Aye. And you must be Amora Svensdottir,” The woman with the purple eyes nodded. “I’ve been expecting you. Ask what you wish to seek.”

“I am looking for the prince, Thor.” She said, eyeing the woman up and down. She radiated power… Amora wanted that. Her compass for Thor had gone all wonky a day into her hike. She blamed the altitude. But also, tracking spells were, generally, short-lived anyways. She supposed she ought to be grateful it had gotten her this far.

“He and his friend just left, out the back… but be careful. Whatever it is that you wish for him, I doubt that it will be well-received.” The Nonacle’s eyes drifted down to Amora’s lips and she could tell that the woman knew her makeup game all too well. The real question was what magic the woman had worked to avoid falling per to Amora’s magical lipstick.

“Thank you, miss.” 

.

Around a giant, round table sat twenty men. The Key Knights of Jotunheim. The sons of the men who had fought the witches off the first time. Now they were here, gathered, alongside their surviving fathers, in council with Laufey and his own son, Helblindi.

“Men, I have called you gather here today to discuss the situation in Jotunheim. Where once there were 21 families, there now lay 20.” There was a pause of silence. Harkson had died of hypothermia two nights prior, alongside his entire family. They were of the North.

“This is obviously witchcraft.” Said Egil. “We must seek the Seeress of the Wimberly!”

“Dead.” Laufey lamented. “Somebody snuck into her house two nights prior and sliced her to ribbons. I’d be willing to bet that whomever did it was one of the people responsible for this catastrophe.” 

“Well what are we to do? If we have no direction, our weapons are useless to us.” John asked.

“We shall train a new Seer.” Laufey said.

That statement caused chaos before it had even left Laufey’s lips. After all, one had to have magical talent to be a Seer, and all the magic users were **_dead_**. Except, it seemed, for the bastards terrorising them now. And then too, was it truly worth it to bring one into Jotunheim? To have them pollute Jotunheim with their filthy blood?

“Silence!” Laufey ordered. “As we all know, my line has a history of magic users. From Ymir down to Laufey III. The same was true in my wife’s line, from Ymir down to Argus IV. My son, Jarnsaxa, can likely be moulded into a Seer.”

“But my king- you would risk tainting your blood so?” Fenrir looked at him, wide-eyed. Laufey shrugged.

“I have arranged his marriage to Prince Njord of Vanaheim. As we all know, the Vanir **_love_** magic. Jarnsaxa’s acquisition of the art will not hinder his marriage potential.”

There were many who murmured, likely not enjoying the fact that their king had just suggested allowing his own son wield magic. _He’s not really mine_ , Laufey shrugged internally. _He’s Kella and Thrym’s, not that these people need to know._ ** _I_** _had the honour to kill my magical-beast of a son before he could taint my line and name, and I killed his wretched mother along with him_.

.

Baldr pulled up at the mountain range, and noticed that there were footprints his brother’s size leading away from the mountains. He must have left already. Baldr leant down and rubbed a finger over the footprints, murmuring a spell to illuminate them. He’d be following footprints, he supposed, to find that dumb idiot and bring them home.

There was a second pair of footprints besides Thor’s… not Amora’s size, no. Seemed like a man’s shoe. Interesting. Thor must have met a quest mate. Good for him not going solo. Baldr lead his horse along.

He’d been looking for his brother for six days… he wished _he_ hadn’t been forced to go solo.

.

There was a secret, one as old as time.

The Nonacle **_had_** been seen within the last few centuries.

And it had been Gaia who’d seen her.


	8. Chapter 8

“Well if I’m to come with you, then we’ll need to be careful. Jotunheim is as anti-magic as it gets.” Loki said, wrapping a cloak around himself.

Thor was conflicted on this. On the one hand, Loki was starting to get on his last nerves, on the other hand it would be awfully lonely completing this quest alone. And besides, the Nonacle had sent them **_both_** down to Vanaheim to fetch Jarnsaxa, what if Loki were vital to this operation.

Still, Thor did not fancy having to wear a shawl around his face and a cloak over himself the entire week it would take to walk to Laufey’s abode. He supposed there was _one_ key benefit though: none could recognise him as Prince Thor of Asgard, Unofficial Ruler of the Nine Realms. 

.

Karnilla strode into Jotunheim, hands on her hips. Upon crossing the border, she headed for a cutesy little hut in the middle of a thick brush of trees known as the Ironwood. Legend had it that the wood was full of bears, but that was all bullshit. It was a secret used to keep out the Jotnar, to protect the magicians who called these woods home.

She walked past trees of metal, trees that would never burn, and finally arrived at Angrboda’s hut.

“Come in!” The man called. Interesting, the last time she’d seen Angrboda he’d been a woman. Such was the undefined nature of shapeshifters. 

“Angrboda,” Karnilla strolled in. “It is good to see you, old friend.” She lied through her teeth. Their last meeting had been anything but pleasant. The bastard had had sex with every single on of Karnilla’s friends, after she’d introduced them, and had then just up and left. This was why she’d had to create Arges, because he’d literally made her having friends impossible! What a tool.

“Likewise. Ever hear back from Carissa?” Oh, how he made her blood boil.

“Nay. I’ve come to ask you a favour.”

“Oh?”

“It concerns the Nonacle. Two men are arriving in Jotunheim to retrieve Prince Jarnsaxa, they will take a path that will surely lead them to the Nonacle.”

“Oh? And why should I help?”

“They seek to put an end to **_your_** curses over the land.” Karnilla hissed. “You know, **_your_** petty form of revenge over the people of Jotunheim.”

Angrboda’s face darkened. “There’s nothing petty about it. Laufey **_murdered my_** **_mother_ ** .”

“Yes, and if we do not act quickly, his son shall murder you too!”

“How did they even get on this quest?”

“I tethered myself to the Nonacle a quarter of a century ago, you know this! I am linked to her, I see all that she has to offer me- as does anyone who takes the Cardamom Seat, mind you!”

Angrboda sat there, stewing for a while. “Fine. Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll stop them for you.”

“Excellent!” Karnilla nearly collapsed with elation.

“On one condition… you bring me a pig’s heart.”

.

Long ago, there was a girl. The girl was of a noble house in Midgard: The Olympians. One day, a king and queen approached her. They’d had trouble conceiving a baby for quite some time, and were desperate for an heir. She agreed to be their surrogate.

But she got attached to the little brat while he was still in her. And why wouldn’t she? He was **_her_** blood, not Frigga’s. He was of **_her_** womb, of **_her_** egg mixed with Odin’s sperm.

She gave birth to **_her_** son. She named him ‘Thor’, and presented him as such to his father. During her pregnancy she’d stayed with them, Odin and Frigga. She may have even had just the tiniest little fantasy of Odin ditching his worthless bride in favour of marrying her. After all, all they ever did was **_fight_** , and **_Gaia_** was the one carrying Odin’s **_son_**. His first-born noble blooded son (she didn’t count Tyr, his mother was a pauper).

But nope! Odin, the rat, took **_her_** baby and raised him with that wife Frigga of his. Oh, it had made Gaia’s blood boil.

It had also deeply upset her. Who wouldn’t be upset knowing that they could have no role in their son’s life, that ‘it wasn’t proper’?

When she returned to her family’s home of Olympus, she was met with great fanfare, but even that was short-lived on account of her surly mood. But, again, who wouldn’t be surly in this sort of situation?

So she’d sought the Nonacle. The Oracle of the Nine. She’d traveled to Vanaheim, found the cave, battled the dragon guarding the Nonacle, and had asked the woman, face to face, staring deep into her broken-blue eyes: “What can I do to get my son back?”

And the Nonacle had instructed her on that. She’d told her where to find the abandoned baby in the woods. Gaia’d named that one ‘Loki’. It was like ‘lucky’, except that it wasn’t. She was still lactating, her son having had been snatched from her mere weeks prior, which was a good thing because the little newborn’s mother was **_dead_**. She’d loved him ever since. She’d long pieced together that ‘Loki’ was the son the Norns wanted her to have, and you know what, she was fine with it. He’d been hers nearly his entire life.

He was still hers.

Which was why she intended to call in a boon to find her baby.


	9. Chapter 9

Odin stared at the letter he’d been handed by his attendant. It was six pages long and marked as ‘urgent’. Oh, if this was Menaleus again trying to convince Odin that there was a ghost haunting his crops and that he needed a larger loan, Odin was going to _kill the man_.

_Dear Odin,_

_It’s me. Thor’s mother. I’ve written to ask you for that grand favour you promised me 22 years ago_.

.

“With Thor missing, it’s a bit of a lost cause sending out somebody to find _anyone_ other than him.” Odin groaned.

“But you **_did_** promise her that favour.” Frigga countered. “A promise is a promise. If we do not keep our word, then we are no better than peasants!”

“Well what do you wish for me to do, woman?” Odin snapped.

“What did she send you?”

“A lock of his baby hair, one of his shirts, a shoe, and some photographs of him.” And a heck of a lot of detail on him to boot! The message had been conveyed in the first half page. _The other five had been all about this ‘Loki’ figure_! Odin didn’t know what was worse: that she’d written it or that he’d read it? Why did he need to know Loki walked at two? Or that it was due to a vitamin D deficiency!? He wasn’t the boy’s father!- wait… no, no, he wasn’t. Gaia had listed his birthdate as 12/04/1999, that was a fully eight months after Thor’s birth, so even if she’d been carrying twins and one was born a month later, that was impossible.

“Perhaps I can try a tracking spell.” Frigga suggested. “Hand me the boy’s hair.”

“Here.” Odin grunted, tossing the lock of dark hair over. Frigga waved her hands over it and purple light appeared. She frowned. 

“He’s chosen to hide himself.”

“Well, then case closed. He doesn’t want to be found, that’s that.”

“Perhaps we can ask Heimdall?”

“And what if he’s chosen to hide himself from Heimdall too?”

“It won’t be so easy.”

Heimdall couldn’t find the boy either. “Let me try the shoe?” Frigga was getting desperate. Odin handed her the shoe. Nothing on that either. “Shit.” She cursed, shaking her head. “Perhaps Huginn and Muninn?”

“ _Wife_.” This was taking too long.

“Odin! You owe her a favour! She birthed your **_heir_**!”

“At the rate that this is going, Baldr might as well be crowned heir.” Frigga looked so offended right then and there that Odin mentally made plans to spend the weekend at his brother’s. “Fine, woman. I shall send The Lady Sif and the Idiot Three to go find them.”

“That’s better… let me see that photo.” Frigga pointed to the picture of the boy Odin was holding. Reluctantly, with a huff, Odin passed over the picture of the boy. Remarkable, Frigga noted. Sharp-ish features, attractive-looking… so this was Thor’s **_other_** half-brother, huh? Pity that they’d grown up apart. Frigga’s own father, Njord I, had had seven wives. Frigga’s mother, Skadi, was among those wives. The only reason Skadi’s family had been made the heirs was because Skadi had been the first to birth Njord a son, Freyr. That was the only reason their sub-set of the family had such power. Still she loved her family, all seventeen siblings that she(‘d) had. There was, aside from her two siblings: Fjorgynn, Mundilfari, Skirnir, Sjofn, Dagna, Dagan, Lofn, Ari, Svalingr, Sinthgunt, Sól, Volundr, Joseph, Maria, Angela, and Galdsheim. Such wonderful people. Three of her brothers and one sister had perished in the Vanir-Aesir war. The sister who had died was a powerful seidrkona, Maria. May she rest in peace, despite the time she’d tried to set Freyja on fire because it ‘wasn’t fair that Freyja was their father’s favourite since Maria was the oldest and her family should have been their father’s favoured one’. Whatever, petty childish rivalries. “’Tis a shame Thor never knew him. I have a feeling they’d be fast friends.”

.

“Well maybe if you stopped moaning about how far we’ve to walk _we’d get there faster_!” Thor snapped. Loki was getting on his last nerve.

“Well maybe if you stopped hogging all the breadcrumbs I’d have the strength to walk!” Loki fired right back. They’d been like this the past two days: bickering without an end in sight.

“I need them more, I’m a lot bigger than you. My body needs a lot of energy to maintain itself. What are we to do if burglars arrive? Magic is _illegal here_ , Loki!”

“Dead men tell no tales!”

“ ** _Who was on at me for killing that magic-man!?”_**

“ **That was different! He was of no immediate threat!”**

**“The bastard could summon _dragons!_** ” Loki smushed a hand over Thor’s mouth. 

“Somebody will hear you, you idiot!”

“Well _let them_! At this rate the fastest way to Laufey would be to cause a scene.”

Loki closed his eyes and felt around using earthly magic his mother had taught him. “Up ahead… there’s a market up ahead. We can buy more food there.”

“With what money?”

“We’ll think. Of. _Something_.” Loki gritted his teeth, fighting to control his rage. Trust Thor to complain about a problem and offer _no solution_.

Thor’s stomach growled. The bastard. Loki hadn’t eaten a proper meal in three days with Thor’s hogging of the breadcrumbs. Even that wild stag Thor’d killed two days prior had been finished. It was like somebody was eating out of his space pocket or something!

.

Amora let out a huge belch. She’d just finished the hind leg of a stag she’d found floating through space. Convenient, this was. It was as if the Norns had blessed her through her journey, as though they **_wanted_** her to be with Thor. Oh! This was so _exciting_! She already had her wedding dress planned! And she could invite her worthless sister on as her maid of honour or whatever the Norse equivalent was! _Oh_! And she’d probably show up with that loser-boyfriend of hers, ‘Sigurd’, one of the old defenders of Asgard! Pssh! Asgard’d _never_ needed defending, at least not in those two’s lifetime. 

.

Karnilla decided that the best thing that **_she_** could be doing was keeping an eye on the straggler. She’d set Amora after Thor and Loki, so Angrboda would likely take her out too. The other man, however, that one was still out there with no clear path to follow. He’d have to be dealt with personally.

She closed her eyes. “Nonacle. Reveal unto me the location of the man I seek.” Her eyes shone green. To the West Wood.

.

Jarnsaxa had grudgingly started to pack his trunk. He figured thirteen pairs of shoes would be enough until he could have the rest sent over. “Raga, have you ironed my shirts?”

“Coming, your majesty!” The woman called.

His father had visited him the previous night to tell him that he was to learn magic. The very idea of the craft in and of itself was utterly repulsive to him, and yet his father insisted that it was for a good cause. He had said that it was necessary to drive out all of the evil witches in Jotunheim.

The book was full of all sorts of horrid spells and potions. How to cut out an enemy’s heart and eat it to gain their powers? Ew, no thanks! Then there was this other one about creating apparitions to scare people to near death! _Fuck no_!

“Are your brothers coming to see you off, ‘Saxa?” Raga asked, bringing over a pile of freshly ironed shirts.

“Aye. They’re packing too. We’re all packing to send me off to _Njord_.”

“Cheer up, sire. There are _far_ worse suitors your father could have picked for your hand. Imagine if he had asked _Sindr_ to marry you!” Jarnsaxa wrinkled his nose. He’d met her before. She was quite mean.

“I see your point.”

“At least in Vanaheim you will be living in the lap of luxury.”

“What I do not understand is why Vanaheim has agreed to this so willingly.” Jarnsaxa added another pile of shirts to his trunk.

“Perhaps they desire what we do, my prince. Perhaps they are just as thirsty for the blood of the Aesir as we are.” Her breath trailed off into a conspiratorial whisper.

“But that would make no sense. The Aesir are their cousins.”

“There is no family where greed and money are concerned, my lord… and Odin himself has made a lot of enemies.”

“His brother even?”

“Especially his brother. Rumour has it that Vé had set his sights on Frigga, who was a second-born daughter, but that Odin had pressured Njord into allowing his marriage to Frigga and Freyja’s to Vé instead.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s pretty sick.” Jarnsaxa agreed. “I’d declare war with Helblindi for less.” Helblindi was an annoying fuck who always ticked him off… he still loved the guy, but yikes. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

“I know, my lord.” Raga smiled sadly. “But princes are all pawns in the narrator’s story.”

“What?” Jarnsaxa frowned, confused.

“I said princes are all but pawns in life’s story. To be used by the country for the greater good of the public. It is simply how things are.”

Yeah, agreed. Things sure were shitty.

.

A second knight’s family dead. It had barely a week’sspacing. Laufey clenched his fists. He’d not liked it when the old Seer had told him to spare the Ironwood. And now? Well, where else could they have hidden? He didn’t buy the whole ‘bears’ bullcrap. Something fishy was going on in that region, he could feel it in his gut.

“Argus. Tell Magni to find the Eternal Flame. We’re burning down the Ironwood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laufey's not a conservationist, I see. Lol. Also: as you can see, none of them have a clue about their heritages, but I just want to remind everyone:
> 
> Gaia + Odin= Thor  
> Frigga + Odin= Baldr  
> Farbauti + Laufey= Loki, Helblindi, Byleistr  
> Kella + Thrym= Kari, Jarnsaxa


	10. Chapter 10

Sif and the Idiots Three set out at noon.

Here’s a little secret for you: Volstagg, being seven years older than everyone else, and having his mother as one of Frigga’s attendants, knew something that the others did not: Thor was not of Frigga’s blood. He loved him all the same, and he was still their prince, but Volstagg happened to know that the man they were searching for was Thor’s half-brother. He contemplated telling the others, but decided against it. There was no point in them knowing. What good would it do?

“Queen Frigga said that this woman lives in Vanaheim. We should start there.” Sif called to the others. She led the way, riding in front.

Vanaheim was a land of great wonders. Sif and Hogun were both from there originally, their parents having had been sent with Frigga as her attendants. It was how they’d met and, more importantly, how they’d met Thor.

The Idiots Three were a gang of friends with a particularly unflattering past, being that whilst they often set out on quests, they seldom were successful. And seldom was pushing it, because it depended on how one defined ‘successful’. Returned with the object of their quest? Never. Returned with something, which was by definition better than nothing? Seldomly.

But this time would be different, they were sure. How difficult could it be to track down this boy? He can’t have gone far, surely. Gaia had not mentioned a method of transport he might have taken, so the assumption was that he was on foot.

.

Loki and Thor pulled up into a dusty old town- could you call a town dusty if it had permafrost?- in the middle of nowhere. From the looks of it, the town was run by gypsies. There was nothing permanent: no huts, no town hall, just tents. Bright, colourful, tents. Red, yellow, gold, blue, green, _purple_ (must be wealthy gypsies) tents. All the colours of the rainbow and more. Such a stark, welcome contrast to Jotunheim’s otherwise dull and dusty atmosphere. Thor knew that there could be no way that Mr. Grumpy-pants Laufey was in approval of this.

“Who’re you?” A man with a long grey-black beard, dressed like a jester pulled up on his donkey-cart next to them. The hind of his cart held boatloads of oranges in it. Loki salivated just a little. He was so hungry.

“We are nomads in search of work.” Loki answered before Thor could. The man eyed them funny. 

“We have no openings.” He said plainly. Loki had always been good at sensing a lie, and he could tell that that right there was a big one.

“Are you travelling? We could help you move your supplies.” 

“No! Now beat it, kids!”

“Don’t listen to him.” A woman’s voice called. She was a busty woman with black, curly hair. If one were to ask Thor, he’d say she looked quite a bit like a female version of Loki.

“Oh fuck off, Leah!” The man swore.

“My uncle’s a bit of a bastard. We’ve tons of help needed around here. We just got here.”

“Can’t you tell that they’re magicians, you idiot!?” Loki’s eyes widened slightly, but not enough to catch. And even if someone did, they’d be well-justified to have mistaken it for shock at how the two family members were addressing one another. “They’ll freeze these lands like they’ve frozen every other!”

“Sorry, sir, but we’re no magicians.” Loki explained, calmly.

“Bollocks!” He swore at Loki. “Look at the fine shawls you wear.”

“We are fleeing the North.” Thor argued, remembering vaguely that a winter storm had been setting in there prior to his departure to Vanaheim. “We grabbed what we could, we are heading to my mother’s house in the South. If we were magicians, we could have razed this tent-dom in minutes and simply stolen our supplies!” Loki was impressed at Thor’s logic. He didn’t know the Oaf had had it in him.

This seemed to further anger Leah’s uncle, though Loki could tell that the logic hadn’t been lost on him. Leah sighed and approached the two men. “If you peel off the skin on the eight reindeer we’ve got in the stores, I’ll give you six silver pieces.” It was a low wage, but a low wage was better than starving.

“Deal.” Loki took it without a second thought.

_Six silver pieces eh? That was almost enough to stay at Loki’s ‘luxury’ inn_ , Thor rolled his eyes internally.

.

With two and a half weeks to ago, Amora was feeling _pretty pleased_ with herself. Through Vanaheim she’d asked after the pair of travellers, and people had guided her along. Never once had she lost their trail. She was currently in Jotunheim, at best a day behind them, at worst two. She’d cut down her sleep schedule to seven hours a day in order to keep up. She was so close that she could almost taste them.

Amora thought it was likely the boy that was slowing Thor down. Thor, she knew, was quick on his feet despite his bulk. It was always a great surprise to his opponents shortly before their demise. For once she was grateful for that Gaia’s brat. She could hear the wedding bells in the back of her head. Oh this was so exciting!

.

Thor groaned, stretching out his muscles on the wooden mattress that Leah’d let them spend the night on, with no other form of shelter. Loki had _not_ let them use magic, claiming that it was too dangerous, so instead they’d had to manually skin the beasts.

Six silver pieces was so unfair. It would be worth six _good_ meals, sure, but for the amount of work they’d put in, they deserved at least 10! Thor needed to take this up with a skinning union or something. Loki, on the other hand, collapsed back onto the mattress with a happy sigh.

“What are you so happy about? My arms are on fire.” As could have only been expected, Thor had done most of the skinning. Loki was crafty with knives, yes, but Thor knew the army-way of skinning a beast.

“A good, hard, honest day’s work. I _loved it_! It’s been so long!” 

“That was torture.”

“Oh, don’t be such a drag.” Loki shook his head, still smiling. “My mother and I used to skin rabbits every winter. We’d store the meat for use in stews, and we’d use the skin to craft warm coats and fill up crevices in the inn so we wouldn’t freeze to death.”

“That sounds rough.” Thor admitted.

“It wasn’t, really. It was just survival. What’d you guys do in the West?”

“Er,” oh great, _more_ lies. “We had one of those brick houses, so it was rare for there to be cracks in our home. Our village was more of a farming one, densely populated, and we had a farm of our own. We’d sheer sheep and use their wool to make blankets.”

“That sounds fun too.” Loki smiled. “We had a neighbour with a farm.” Loki’s face soured just a little. “Selfish bloke, we went through a food shortage once and he upped the prices of his stock. Mother was incensed. She set him straight, cursed his land to make it barren.”

“That’s a bit extreme.” Wow, that was mean.

Loki shrugged. “Rich fuck deserved it. They all do, honestly.” Aaaand now Thor was uncomfortable. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“I mean, if there was a food shortage then surely he needed to make the same amount with the little he had in order to keep his farm running.”

Loki, appearing to have never considered this, just shook his head. “Nah, Thor. Guy was a douchebag. You have to have met him.”

“I’m just saying, if your mother had the magic to make land barren, surely she could have made someone else’s fertile.”

Loki shook his head, deciding to change the subject. “How long are we staying here?”

“Two days tops. The sooner this quest is over, the fewer people die, but we also don’t know how far Utgard is and we need enough money to keep us going.” Loki nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure we could get more money helping them set up or something. Perhaps they have a fruit-picking job open or something?”

“I’d take mucking out stalls if it meant that I could eat.”

“I’d take you smelling like manure if it meant _I_ could eat.” Loki teased.

.

Jarnsaxa watched his trunk be loaded into a royal cart. He followed his brothers into the carriage that was meant for their family. In it was his aunt as well, and his father, which was rare. Then again, he’d always been fond of Jarnsaxa, this was probably very difficult for him.

The first hour of the ride was ridden in complete and utter silence. Jarnsaxa stared around at the inside of the cart, biding his time. Red, plush fabrics to keep them comfortable on the hard wood. Golden patterns trailing around in the red, a sign of their royalty. 

The scenery rolled by them as they raced on at 15 kmph. In six days they’d be in Vanaheim, and he’d be meeting with his future husband. Oh, how he _did not want this_! Jarnsaxa was so scared! What if Njord didn’t even like him or something, ludicrous as that might sound! Jarnsaxa wasn’t worried about disliking his husband, he was such a virtuous person that he even liked rats after all, he could like **_anyone_**.

“Remember, the Vanir are a fair bit looser than we are.” Laufey started his six-day-lecture-of-horror. “When you greet him, bow first, but extend your hand for a handshake right after. Do not be offended if he does not bow back, it is not their way.”

When was this nightmare going to end?

.

Angrboda walked on, staff in hand, disguised as an old beggar. He panted and moaned convincingly enough for someone to think he was nearing the end of his life.

A man on his way to the boarder saw him on the streets. “Sir, are you in need of assistance?” The man asked.

“I-I’m looking for my grand…son.” Angrboda stammered out. He’d tried to use a scrying pool, but it seemed that both of the little weasels were shrouded from him. The only other option he’d had was nature itself, and she was being a bit slow in locating the two imbeciles. 

“Oh, uh. Is he with you?”

“Nay, he has fled south in the direction of Utgard to seek refuge. He is the only family I’ve left. He must have thought I was dead in the storm, for he abandoned me in his quest.”

The traveller was clearly scandalised at the thought of a hale young man leaving his elderly grandfather to die out in the cold. “Can you describe him to me?”

“He is six-feet tall, a bit weaselly, black sloppy hair.” Karnilla’s description really hadn’t been all that flattering. Angrboda pictured him as looking like an ogre, but a skinny useless one.

“I’m sorry, I have not seen him.”

“That’s okay.” Angrboda stabbed the man in the gut suddenly with his cane. As the man died, Angrboda loaded up his possessions. He assumed the man’s identity (physical features) and robes. He was clearly a nomad, Angrboda’d be able to use that in his newly assumed identity. He glanced at the identity card the man was carrying with him, walking past the now crimson snow.

_Jordas Fenrirson._ Nice, he could work with that. The man was from the south, from Astheim, a small city next to Utgard. He was married, probably with kids too. 

Angrboda continued on walking, transforming his stick into a hat. Oh well, if the man hadn’t seen Thor or Loki then it was very much possible that the route from that point to Astheim was barren of the two. Might as well take the route through the wildlands. He grimaced. That would mean passing the gypsies. Angrboda did not like gypsies. These ones were different from the standard ones on Midgard, who were actually quite fun to hang around. These ones used to practice magic before its banishment…

Angrboda’s mother had been one. The Gypsy Queen. She’d had him out of wedlock and had hated him for it since. But she was dead now, and much as he had loathed his mother in her lifetime, he would not let her death at the hands of Laufey’s men go unavenged. 


	11. Chapter 11

Leah… _definitely_ had a crush on Loki. One hundred percent. Thor was used to being the object of girls’ affections, but he supposed that awkward-peasant-boy still had its charms. After all, hadn’t Thor noted Loki’s good looks upon their first acquaintance  how he wished it had been their last ?

Leah’s mother, however, hated the both of them. Her name was Hela, and she was a **_real_** piece of work. Almost as bad as Leah’s father, Surtur. Her brother, Caleb, was pretty nice though. 

Loki’s charming ways had led to them earning 10 silver pieces for their work in gathering a harvest of berries from surrounding bushes. _Thor_ thought that it would be far wiser to simply take the berries and leave, that they would be enough to sustain them. Attention-whore thought otherwise, and claimed that berries alone would not be enough to sustain them, that they needed other things like bread and meat ‘we’re not squirrels, Thor!’. As though Loki were doing it for him! Ha! It was so obviously just a ploy to go and spend some more time with Leah.

Thor had found a… less than honourable way of making money. He’d decided to use Mjolnir as a side show. He told all of how he’d won her in an arm-wrestling contest with the Lady of Some Lake, how she could only be lifted by one who was worthy enough.

Naturally everybody wanted a try. Thor let them have at it for 5 copper pieces a try. He’d made 750 copper pieces (7 and a half silver ones) in just five hours, and only one person had almost managed. (That had given Thor a fright, but thankfully Mjolnir had only _just_ lifted up a little, not quite clearing the ground).

That put their collective total at 22 silver pieces (they’d had a few meals: they’d bought two loaves of bread, a reindeer leg, and some eggs because they could not afford to be throwing around money). Surely that was enough? Surely they could leave the next day, right?

Oh, but Loki was so happy here. Thor felt bad for him, remembering his tales of youthful isolation. This clan of gypsies was brimming with young people (Thor vaguely remembered that most of the older people had been executed for witchcraft back in the day, so that would make some sense), it was a comfort and social scene the likes of which Loki had never even known!

There would be a rave that night. Thor resolved to let Loki enjoy it, and then carry on in the morning. 22 silver pieces would easily last them a week if they were good on their money. And they’d definitely have more if people kept trying to pick up Mjolnir anyways.

.

They were in Gladsheim now. 5 more days to Vanaheim. Jarnsaxa listened to the crickets chirping. Truth be told he’d always been afraid of the dark, more so the open dark. Who wouldn’t be? It was full of the unknown. Every noise from beyond the bushes made him jump. Oh, this was such a bad idea! What if there were wolves or something out there!

“Rest, my prince.” Raga was back to addressing him formally. It would not do to slip in front of Laufey, who was such a stickler for protocol that he’d once beheaded a peasant for addressing him as ‘sir’ instead of ‘My King’ in greeting. “Tomorrow the journey shall continue. You shall be in the arms of your betrothed by the week’s end.”

“What if he- what if he doesn’t like me?” Jarnsaxa let his insecurity show. Raga was the only person he trusted with his most intimate of feelings, being his best fiend and all.

Raga smiled up at Jarnsaxa, her brown eyes twinkling. “He’d be a fool not to, sire. A fool indeed.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, my prince.”

.

Magni had gone to Muspelheim to ask to borrow a piece of the Eternal Flame. He’d brought along with him a stick on which to carry it. An old, traditional one, made of the leg bone of a witch.

The young, brown-haired man bowed before the King of Muspelheim, Surtur. The big, tanned, bulky, red-haired man sat on his red throne. Wow, this land was hot! Magni pulled at his neckline. He should have worn less than this. He’d only managed to ditch his coat, there was not much else he could take off without running around naked.

“Son of Argus.” Surtur nodded at Magni. It was no secret that he hated Laufey. It was an age-old tradition for the Frost Giants to hate the Fire ones, despite all being descendants of Ymir. “For what has that mangy old man sent you to my kingdom?”

“King Surtur,” Magni nodded. “I am in need of the Eternal Flame.”

“What for?”

“We’ve a blizzard.” Magni’d been told to lie. “We think we’ve found the cursed object associated with it, but no matter our efforts we can’t seem to destroy it.”

Surtur nodded. “Very well, boy. But I do not think I need to tell you just how difficult it is to put the Flames out.”

“No, sir,” Magni shook his head. He knew full-well that it took blood to sate the flame. True blood, good blood. At least three pints worth of it. They had Helblindi’s stored up in a bottle for it. The blood needed to be both Royal, and that of a virgin. Laufey had insisted upon it being Helblindi’s blood and not Jarnsaxa’s for whatever reason. Oh well, far be it from Magni to question Jarnsaxa’s chastity. And everyone already knew that Byleistr was _way_ out of question on being ‘pure’. That whore had bedded every maiden to ever enter Utgard’s walls.

“Alright then. Fire away.”

.

Baldr was making good progress on the pair. Karnilla chalked it up to him having a horse. In a half day he would have caught up with them. Good thing she was present to subvert him.

“Help! Help!” She screamed. She’d cast her illusions, now it was time for Baldr to come and get her.

Baldr, ever the noble man, rushed over to the source of desperation, and found a beautiful black-haired woman in a purple dress fighting off some (conjured) ogres. Baldr drew his sword. Shouting he charged, waving his sword about in a bid to scare off the ogres. Surprisingly it worked.

“Oh, thank you!” The tattered woman exclaimed. There were bruises and scratches all over her face and arms, and her dress was torn at some rather choice spots. Blushing, Baldr’s eyes went straight back up to hers. “Thank you so much! They were trying to kidnap me!”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, thank you.” She staggered up and hobbled away. Baldr could leave her like this.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“From where _are_ you going?”

“My boyfriend- we split up. I’m just trying to find a new town to move to.”

“Wait! Ms, please! You are injured and we’re in the middle of nowhere! Please at least let me find you a town to stay in!”

“No, no, it’s okay!” She insisted, stubbornly. Baldr pursued her.

“You are _limping_ , and you don’t appear to have any money. You will die out here.” She looked scared. “Please, I understand the fears you may have, but worry not. I am a prince of Asgard and a virtuous man. I intend you no harm and will not sexually manipulate you, for I am engaged. But please, miss, you are _injured_.” He begged, every Frigga-Njordsdottir ounce of his soul coming out and seeping into his eyes.

She hesitated. “You promise you will not rape me?” She looked like she’d been hurt before, and his heart absolutely melted for the poor woman. Nanna would approve of him helping her, he was certain. She too was a kind and loving woman.

“Never.” She looked so scared. He would never dishonour his fiancé like that

“Alright.” She nodded, her head sagging just a little bit. Come to think of it, she was skin and bones. When had her last meal been? “Alright, thank you, sir.” He helped her onto his horse and they rode off.

Because she was in front, he couldn’t feel her smirk. Well, that had gone **_exactly_** to plan.

.

The rave consisted of a bonfire and a fuckton of booze. Not exactly two things that generally ended well together, but fun nonetheless.

“ _And the golden son packed a punch at the dragon_

_It flew away but they tracked down the dragon_

_And then they trapped and strapped down the dragon_

_And then they cut his belly and out fell the gold!”_ The young adults, including Loki, sang at the top of their lungs as they danced around in one of those circle-things. Loki was so pretty when he smiled.

Two boys came out with a fiddle and a banjo, and that was when the partying **_really_** started.

“Thor, come on, dance.” A pretty blonde girl in a powder blue dress said. Her name was Jarnsaxa, which was a unisex name, named after the prince of these lands. That was a common phenomenon: parents naming their children after royalty. Thor knew like fifty Friggas back home from the palace alone. He wondered if Loki had heard of **_Prince_** Thor and had assumed that, aside from the god Thor, Thor’d been named for him too.

Thor obliged the woman and followed her to the dance floor. Thor was a pretty good dancer. When you partied as hard as he did, you tended to pick it up. The woman was blushing the whole way, but laughing and letting out those ‘cute’ squeals that girls did sometimes. Were Thor in the mood, he had a gut feeling this easily could have ended in sex, but with the quest on his mind, he wasn’t up for it.

Loki, meanwhile, was dancing with Leah, who was wearing a green and black dress. She was leaning into him, her back pressed to his chest. He was twirling her around, with the little experience he _did_ have in dancing. Usually his partner was a man, but he’d had a few ‘female friends’ (wink wink) over the years.

Leah twirled herself out of his grasp and kissed him. He ought to be overjoyed that such a beautiful girl was kissing him, but he kind of felt nothing to be honest. This was especially odd given that Leah was, in the most general of terms, his type: bossy, assertive, around about his frame size (i.e. height and width- Leah was a tall girl). Oh well, he still kissed her back anyways, knowing that they’d be gone in the morning. Thor had been clear on that.

“I’ve never met anybody like you.” She whispered, staring into his eyes.

“Nor I like you.” Oh no, Loki’d seen that look before. Ragnar the Bold had gotten it during the week that he’d spent at Gaia’s Inn. Leah was nice and all, but he **_did_** have a quest to complete. Maybe he ought to just let her down easy?

“Stay.” She said, then. “Stay with me, here, join our clan.”

Loki shook his head. “I must find my mother. I do not know if she is well or not.” That was what Thor had told them, right? That they were looking for their mother or something like that? Or wait, had it been _Thor’s_ mother’s house? The details were slipping.

Leah’s face soured then. “You’re not… you’re not _with_ Thor, are you?”

Loki blinked. “Of course not! Thor’s repulsive!” He couldn’t even fathom the two of them working out together. Yes, Thor was exceedingly handsome, but a relationship included more than just looks.

“Well then why are you two travelling together?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, and he’s the only other person I know to have survived the ice age that swept over our village.” Loki the Liesmith, they called him back in Angsburg.

“Bull. I’ve seen you two in the morning when you wake up, all nice and cozy! You’re with him and you can’t even speak straight about it! I can’t believe I wasted my time on you, my mother was right, you’re a waste of time!” She huffed, stomping off.

Loki didn’t even bother asking if they could still use the mattress that night.

“Hey, I just saw that. What’s going on?” Thor questioned Loki. Already a crowd of onlookers were staring at the pair. Looked like it was time to go.

“Come on, Thor… let’s get out of here.”

.

Angrboda’s ravens had found something. He listened to them speak.

_150 miles south, heading south-west at a bearing of 030 degrees. That was the path that the pair were taking_.

“Good work.” He commended them, skipping off to the left. 

_Here comes ‘Boda._

.

Odin had drafted a _long_ treatise addressed to Laufey detailing his desire to ‘unify their great kingdoms through marriage’. He knew in a heartbeat that the only one of Laufey’s sons he’d offer would be Jarnsaxa. He also knew that there would be no possible way of Laufey knowing that Odin knew about Jarnsaxa’s engagement to Njord.

“Fly, Sparrow.” He commanded the magical bird Frigga had gifted to him as a wedding present. “Find King Laufey and deliver this unto him.”

The bird squawked and flew off in a dazzling display of its glittering blue, green and orange feathers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update! XD I always write fastest when I'm supposed to be doing other stuff 😂


	12. Chapter 12

The walk out of the campsite was a bit awkward what with the circumstances of their departure. Loki was paranoid about being seen, and Thor was quiet on the matter of what had just taken place.

They walked in the dark, Loki providing light in the form of magic despite it being expressly illegal to perform it. They just wanted to get to a safe space, and Thor was starting to think that Loki’d relaxed his stance a little on murder.

Eventually though, as they laid down on the dirt, ready to call it a night, Thor did ask, “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” Loki replied, turning onto his side and feigning sleep.

.

As night drew, Baldr set up camp for him and the lady he’d found. She’d said her name was Karnilla. 

“You can sleep in the tent.” Baldr said, chivalrous as ever, giving her his sleeping bag and blanket too. He’d spent many nights under the stars, often while chasing Thor down for their mother. 20 years Baldr had spent with him, and he was still the same old Thor.

“No, please sir. I’ll take the ground.”

“You can call me Baldr.” He smiled at her in an attempt to soothe her. She looked a bit frazzled- who wouldn’t be if ogres tried to attack them?

“Alright, Baldr,” she smiled when she said his name. “I can take the ground, please. You’ve already done enough for me today.”

Baldr shook his head. “I shan’t take a mat while a lady takes the floor.” Karnilla rolled her eyes internally, but maintained a soft-smile nonetheless. She was sure that the intention was pure, but all she could hear was ‘girls are too delicate to sleep on the ground’ which was complete and utter bullshit. She’d slept on the ground _hundreds_ of times. Oh well, she supposed that as a prince Baldr must be used to the _delicate_ types. Hopefully she’d be able to teach the soft fool **_something_** about the women he wasn’t exposed to: the rough and rugged types, like her. 

“Thank you.” She said, manipulating the light just the tiniest bit to make her eyes twinkle. Not everybody needed that special red lipstick that that blonde bitch had been wearing when she’d entered the Nonacle’s Cave in Vanaheim. Karnilla was an artist, a masterful one, she didn’t have to **_force_** someone to fall for her, she could **_manipulate_** someone into it quite easily. She’d been doing so for centuries.

That was why she’d cursed the Nonacle to die. The fucking bitch had told her that she was destined to marry one who could never love her. So she’d sentenced the woman to life trapped in Jotunheim until she could give her a better answer. Again, the smarmy bitch had deserved it. And then she’d gone and had a search through the woman’s memories and now she was fucking tethered to her. 

The tether varied, like its own length of rope it was strongest at some points and weakest at others. For example, if Karnilla were in a High Place, like the Nonacle’s Cave, she’d feel a strong pull, hence why she’d been unable to stop herself from giving away information to Loki and Thor. If she were in a non-High Place then the connection subsided a fair amount, she couldn’t see whatever it was that the Nonacle was seeing. Like in that present moment, there was nothing High about the place where she and Baldr were. Nothing to make the land either Holy or Anointed, so she was good. She’d **_tried_** keeping the Nonacle herself in a non-High Place in an effort to disconnect her there, but that hadn’t worked. It seemed that wherever the Nonacle was, it counted as ‘High’.

Karnilla entered the tent that Baldr had set up, rolling her eyes. She didn’t know what was sadder, that he thought women were helpless or that he put all this effort into making her comfortable and he didn’t even expect to get laid.

.

Cassandra let out a breath, the air misting. Winter was always hard in the mountain range. She remembered once when an ice dragon had made its way into the cave. She’d had horrid frostbite, but it had, like all of her ailments, cured itself. She was unable to die.

_At least the bitch who had put her here was destined to be miserable_ , she reasoned. _A miserable woman for a miserable husband, that was what her eyes had shown her. And she could think of no woman more deserving than that Witch._

.

“So… you and Leah, huh?” Thor asked, as they woke up and brushed the dirt off of their backs.

“Yeah. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“I mean, it was your first party. Don’t feel bad about it.”

Loki shook his head. “First and last. You always fantasise about things in your head, make them seem bigger than they are… what a let down.”

“You seemed to be having fun **_prior_** to her yelling at you.” Thor pointed out. “You should try not to let one bad moment ruin your whole night, though in that circumstance I can see how it was bad enough to do so.”

“What are parties like in West Vanaheim?”

“Not that dramatic, usually. But more or less the same stuff: singing, dancing, food, alcohol, bonfires, music, throwing a person in a lake.”

“Wait, what?”

“To mark midnight. We do it always.” Thor gave it away with his smile.

“You’re such a clown.”

“That’s what your mother said last night.”

“ ** _Thor_**.”

.

The next stop was Guntersberg. 4 more days until Jarnsaxa would be in Vanaheim. He’d quietly gone off the previous night and vomited just a little. He chalked it up to nerves. His stomach had been nearly empty anyways as he’d had a hard time eating as of late.

_He was going to be married. He was going to be married. He was going to be married._

_No more Raga. No more Fjor. No more Andla. No more father. No more aunty. No more brothers. He was going to be tethered to somebody else and their family. He was going to be made to learn witchcraft. His children would probably be born with seven hands and no legs or something!_

Jarnsaxa left.

Nobody was watching him. Everyone was getting food and having drinks. Nobody was expecting him to leave.

It made leaving easier.

While Raga was off flirting with Fjor (may the Norns bless their union), Jarnsaxa made a left turn and walked until he was out of the village.

Until he was free.

.

“If we let more people try and lift Mjolnir, perhaps we could afford a sled?” Loki volunteered. 

“We’d have to find more people to do so first. Do we still have any meat?”

“A little bit- I found the hole in my space pocket, by the way. Apparently somebody was mooching off of us.”

“Lucky bastard. No way you can reverse it and find out who it was?”

“Nay. Unfortunately a hole in a space pocket is a lot like a hole in real life: you can’t predict who stole your stuff.”

“That suc..k.. Loki. Loki, do you see that?” Thor had stopped walking.

“No, what?”

“That!” Thor pointed at the scrawny, frenetic blonde making his way in their general direction. He appeared lost, terrified, but confident. What a weird triad. 

“It’s a man. And?”

“Loki, _that’s Prince Jarnsaxa!_ ” Thor hissed. As crown prince of Asgard, Thor’d been ‘blessed’ with several briefings regarding their satellite kingdoms and their royal families. Jarnsaxa’s was a face he remembered simply because 1) he did not look like the stereotypical royal, much daintier; and 2) he had blond hair which was, outside of Vanaheim and Asgard, not a common trait in a royal family.

Loki’s mouth dropped in an ‘oh’. “Wait, what’s he doing here?”

“That I do not know. Let’s go and ask him.” Loki grabbed Thor’s bicep. “What?”

“ ** _Thor_** , he looks frazzled as is. You’re going to scare him off. **_I’ll_** go.”

Loki had a point. “Fine then, but hurry, he may be being pursued.” Loki nodded and trudged through the setting snow to the blond with the parka.

“Who are you?” Jarnsaxa frowned at the approaching stranger.

“My name is Loki. Who are you?”

“Do not play games with me, peasant.” Jarnsaxa said through chattering teeth. “Everybody knows who I am.” Jarnsaxa drew his sword. Loki was unarmed and made a show of it.

“I am not from Jotunheim, I am from Vanaheim. I have come here with my friend,” at this he pointed Thor’s way, “who is half Jotunn and is worried about the state of the land. He’s been sent here at the request of King Vé and King Laufey to stop whatever curse is on Jotunheim.” Loki made stuff up as he went along. Truth be told, he had no clue **_why_** Thor was here doing this in the first place. Thor had said that ‘his people’ were in danger, which no they weren’t, Thor was **_Vanir_**. Still, Jarnsaxa didn’t need to know that.

Jarnsaxa’s eyes narrowed. “I am Jarnsaxa, prince of Jotunheim. Take me to that friend of yours.” Loki rolled his eyes at the man’s bossy tone, but complied. He was just like every other rich kid who’d stayed at Gaia’s Inn, Loki was certain he’d be able to handle at least five days with the bastard in his presence.

“Who are **_you_**?” Jarnsaxa asked as soon as he was in front of Thor.

“I am Thor Odessajarson of Vanaheim.” Thor lied through his teeth. If he were to announce himself as‘Thor Odinson’ then Jarnsaxa might think that Thor was trying to invade Jotunheim or something. “My father is Argvald of Jotunheim, and my mother is Odessa of Vanaheim.”

“Why do you wish to help us?”

“I have reason to believe that my uncle, Bargvald, is behind this.”

“ _And_?”

“He killed my father three years prior and ate his heart, I want revenge.” Clearly Loki’d rubbed off on Thor because Thor was spitting these lies with ease.

This gave Jarnsaxa pause. “That is… noble of you. But why have you sought me out?”

“We went to see the Nonacle in Vanaheim. She said that you were instrumental to ending this ice age.”

“Well what _exactly_ did she say?” Loki scoffed at this man preening himself, trying to feel important. It was _so_ pathetic.

“To go to Jotunheim, meet with Laufey, obtain you, and that only a prince could right a wrong, and that you were the only prince capable of it.”

“Where’s your father?” Loki asked, looking around. It seemed that they’d skipped step one.

“Unimportant.”

“Why, are you on the run?”

“Why, is that any of your business?”

Thor watched the pair bicker. For some odd reason, the phrase ‘Bickering like Frost Bitches’ sprung to his mind. He had no idea **_why_** it did. These were two human men, not whatever a ‘Frost Bitch’ was.

“Guys, can we please get back to the task at hand?” Thor requested. Both pairs of eyes snapped at him and he quickly lost his voice.

“Has the Nonacle given you any further information?” Jarnsaxa asked, pointedly looking at Thor.

“None. Though she did mention that Jotunheim was ‘getting what it deserved’, so I would assume that witches were laying a curse upon this land.” Thor only had to phrase it like that because he’d accused his fake uncle of being behind it, when in reality he knew it had to be someone else. Unless, of course, there truly was a Bargvald who had killed his brother Argvald who had been married to a witch named Odessa and had had a son, Thor, alongside other children with her.

“Duh.” Both Loki and Jarnsaxa rolled their eyes, arms crossed over their chests. They glared at each other then. They were both so similar, if Thor didn’t know any better he’d have maybe thought that they were related. They even had similar hairlines, foreheads, and eye-shapes, wasn’t that funny?

“So in total we’ve got that: witches have cursed this land, and that only you can undo the misery felt by your people.”

“Yes, my people.” Jarnsaxa nodded, not noting that they were about to have not been his people had he simply gone along and gotten married to Njord. “We should find a better place to discuss this. We will freeze in the cold. Where have you come from?”

“A gypsy camp, but we can’t go back there, they would have left.” Thor said. “Where have you come from?”

“I’d been kidnapped.” Jarnsaxa decided on the lie. “I snuck out of it, but the men pursuing me will be coming from back there.” He pointed.

_‘Who would want to kidnap you? Even if they got a lot of money out of it?_ ’ Loki thought quietly to himself.

“Then we shall head to the north.” Thor said.

“Are you mad? It is a frozen wasteland up there!” Jarnsaxa protested.

“Aye. It is where the witches have struck, and it is likely where they shall continue striking from.”

“The only thing up there are corpses and the Jotunheim Mountain Range, both of which are undoubtedly useless.”

Loki’s head perked up. “Did you say ‘Mountain Range?’”

“Yes, why?”

“Mountain Ranges are ‘High Places’. Well, not all of them, but the ones that tend to get named after the lands they’re from.”

“High Places?” Jarnsaxa frowned, his nose wrinkling a bit. What was this mad man on about?

“Aye. High Places are sacred, blesséd areas where gods have, at some point or the other, touched down and visited.” Loki spun on Thor. “Remember? Remember, the Nonacle also said that the only way to end this would be to seek the aide of the gods.”

“But she said that the gods would not help us.” Thor frowned too, trying to guess where Loki was going with this.

“Yes, but she said that they would not intervene because of the circumstances! Because they only help when all is either right or wrong, and that the person behind this was neither right nor wrong because this was based on vengeance.”

“That’s not what she said-”

“But she **_implied_** it! The fact that she mentioned that the person behind this was motivated by revenge _at all_ heavily implies that that’s what’s wrong here! So if we head to the mountain top, and we make it so that whoever is causing this is ‘all wrong’, we could defeat the son of a bitch!” Loki finished strong, a fire in his eyes that Thor had never seen. A sexy, sexy fire.

“But how would we do that?”

“She said only a prince could right a wrong. She said it **_had_** to be Jarnsaxa.” Loki looked at Jarnsaxa. “Something in your past ties you to this witch.”

Jarnsaxa shook his head, dazed. “Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still on the ‘gods’ part. Everyone knows that gods don’t exist!”

“Then who gave people magic?” Loki rolled his eyes.

“The Devil?”

“The who now?” Loki blinked. He’d never heard of this character.

“The Devil of course. The being who makes all of our lives a living hell.”

Loki shook his head, slowly. “What are you on about?”

“Everyone knows: there are three Norns and a devil. The devil is a dark and powerful being capable of much mischief. She is a sister of the Norns, but not a friend. She is the reason that magicians practice magic: she taught the first magicians, who taught it to their children, etc., etc.”

Loki looked to Thor for clarity. He just shrugged. Loki turned back to Jarnsaxa. “I’ve literally never heard of that. I’ve heard of the Norns, and the gods, including the evil ones. Never the Devil.”

“Oh? And what bullshit origin story do _you_ have for magic?” Jarnsaxa sneered.

“Those who descend from gods have the seidr said gods possess. Hence why every royal family has magic: because every royal family descends from the gods.” That was the one that Thor had heard growing up as well.

“Bullshit. There is nothing glamorous about magic.”

“And you’d know that because you were, what, born inept?” Thor was not ready to handle a full-on fight between these two Frost Bitches (wait, no, seriously, where did that term keep coming from?), so he strategically fell back to give them space to interact without him getting hurt.

“Born _lucky_ , more like. Sin-free.”

“ ** _Useless_**.” Loki scoffed.

“Take mind of how you speak to me, peasant.”

Loki bit his tongue but glared daggers into Jarnsaxa. Thor could tell that Loki was having a fierce internal debate over what was more important: being right or keeping Jarnsaxa on their side. Thor hoped beyond hope that Loki would opt for the latter. He reached forward to smooth his thumb over the skin on Loki’s hand in an attempt to calm him. Loki yanked his hand away, but it had worked. He was clearly no longer **_furious_** with Jarnsaxa, merely angry. Thor could deal with angry.

They reached a town eventually, Loki and Jarnsaxa both not talking to each other. Thor checked into the inn they’d be staying at _for them_. It was a meagre 2 silver pieces for a full night’s stay, also known as half of what Loki charged for a _half day_ , but whatever.

Unbeknownst to Thor and co, the man with the soft, black tresses in the corner, ‘reading’ a newspaper, was watching them. Perfect. They’d landed in ‘Boda’s trap. Things could only go up from there. He snapped his paper shut and walked off in the direction he remembered them going off in, determined to take note of their room numbers.

.

Gaia was so desperate to find her son that she called in a second favour with a rider gang she knew. They used to stay in Gaia’s Inn all the time when Loki was very little.

“Boris, I need you to find my son.” Gaia begged the man. 

“Loki’s missing?” Boris’d always had a soft-spot for the little brat.

“Aye. He’s been kidnapped by some hooligan! Oh, what if they got _married_ or something?” She’d been going mad on her own, fretting over her son.

“Don’t worry, sweet stuff. We’ll find him.” Boris put on his helmet and hopped onto his horse. He rode to alert the other members of the gang, all of whom knew Loki to some extent.

Nobody kidnapped Gaia’s son and got away with it. Boris’d brutalise the man who’d abducted the little twerp. How old was Loki again? Twelve? Thirteen? Boris was going to kill that fucking kiddie toucher.


	13. Chapter 13

Loki yawned and stretched waking up. Jarnsaxa had taken his own room for the night. Apparently the airhead had brought money with him. What a shame Thor and Loki were just _so poor_ that they had to share a room. Loki scoffed. What a snob that that man was.

Thor, who was in the twin bed on the other side of the room, shifted under his blanket. Loki didn’t want to wake him, so he simply crawled out of his bed and made his way down the corridor to get some tea. The previous night, prior to falling asleep, Thor had once more let people attempt to lift Mjolnir. 2 silver pieces. They’d made a full 2 silver pieces. Thor was a marketing legend.

“Thank you,” Loki took his tea from the woman at the counter. He carried it to a table in the corner and sat down with it.

“Well, hello there.” A voice called. Loki looked up to its source and his heart thudded just a little bit. The most beautiful man that Loki had ever seen- and yes, that **_did_** include Theoric- stood in the corner. He wore a heavy coat (who wouldn’t in this weather?), a scarf around his neck, a beanie, and some thick pants with boots. His face was chiseled. One of those stereotypically handsome faces you saw on adverts, or in the papers hired by people who didn’t want their real photos in a publicity shoot. He had blue eyes, a roman nose, tousled black hair (from what was sticking out under the beanie), and a smile that said ‘yes, I know I’m sexy, now come get some.’ “I thought your kind slept in.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, to get ‘beauty sleep’, because you’re so beautiful?” The man fumbled a little with his own cup of tea. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” The man slid into the seat opposite from Loki.

“My name’s Angrboda, what’s yours?”

“Loki.” He said, staring into the man’s hypnotic eyes, and taking a sip from his own mug of tea.

.

Amora was getting closer, she could taste it. She’d passed through a gypsy camp and had asked around for the men. Not only had they used their real names, and not only did they spend a night there, but they’d left mere _hours_ before she’d arrived. She was hot on their trail, which was good because she only had 16 days left to find Thor.

She continued on her way. Her meat source had vanished, which was sad, but she’d managed to angle herself into somebody else’s space pocket, so she was well and good now.

.

Baldr and Karnilla arrived at a town that, unbeknownst to them, was only a 2 hour ride from where Thor and Loki presently were.

Balder got them separate rooms, gentleman that he was, and ordered them both a hot meal.

“So, do you know where you’re going? Is there a specific place you need to be dropped off?”

Karnilla shook her head and shrugged. “No,” she heaved a breath. “I’ve no clue where I’m to go.”

“No family around?”

“All dead.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Aye… they were,” Karnilla put on a show of glancing from side to side before leaning in close and whispering, “witches.”

Baldr blinked. “Oh my.”

“Aye. I was fleeing my boyfriend because he discovered I had magic. He was beating me, see, and some just escaped out of me and flung him off… I’ve done my best to suppress it, always, I know it’s evil… I’m a dead woman walking now.” She made it so that her skin greyed just the teeniest. Oh, she was so brilliant she deserved an award!

“No,” Baldr breathed, wide-eyed, naive. “No, it’s,” he leaned in and whispered. “No, it’s not evil. I have some magic too. I’m of Asgard, my mother’s the best seidrkona in the Nine. This place is a hellhole,” he said, angrily. “You shouldn’t have to be ashamed of who you are. I’m on a quest to rescue my brother from a mad-lady. Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe, and then afterwards I’ll take you to Asgard. You’ll have a better life there.”

Karnilla shook her head. “I can’t leave this place.”

“Why not? You’ve said yourself that you’ve no family.”

“It’s my home.”

“You’re supposed to feel safe in your ‘home’, clearly you don’t here… come on, come with me, I can take you back. My mother could teach you seidr! You’d never have to worry about abusive boyfriends ever again.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What’s in it for you?”

“I like to help people.”

“Bull.”

“I’m being honest. Please. I have a fiancé at home, she’s one of the nicest people in the world! She would forever despise me if she were to discover that I’d left a helpless person to die, especially in this place.” Nanna was, like most Aesir, part-Jotunn (her mother), and Baldr was willing to believe that she would indeed be upset if he left Karnilla here.

“Alright.” She said, quietly. **_Sucker!_**

“Thank you.” He said, taking in another spoonful of his soup.

.

Laufey was _pissed._ He couldn’t find his nephew **_anywhere_**! Somebody must have kidnapped him- but whom?

“Scour the village looking for him! Search every house and home! If anybody refuses you entry, kill them!” Laufey ordered. They did not have time for this. The longer this went on the more people died. A little bit of bad was certainly worth a lot of good. At their present moment, with the refugees heading in from the north, they didn’t even have enough _grain_ for them. That would be 7,000 people left to starve.

“You heard the King!” Vassil roared, raising his sword. That one had always been a little bloodthirsty, but he was a damned good attendant, so Laufey excused it.

Nothing. They came up with nothing. Even after turning the entire village over twice, Jarnsaxa wasn’t there. Whoever had taken him had been quick and efficient, because he could not have possibly been stowed away in this land.

“My King,” Raga, Jarnsaxa’s servant came, bowing her head and presenting him with Jarnsaxa’s box of precious belongings.

All of them were gone. He’d **_left_**. Laufey clenched his fists. “Find my son!” He roared. “And murder any man, woman, or child who dares to hide him from you!”

.

When Thor woke up, he noticed that Loki was gone. Stretching and getting up, he threw on a shirt and rinsed his face in the wash basin. He ran a hand through his long mane and walked out for some breakfast.

He found Loki sitting at a table chatting to some man. Immediately Thor had a bad feeling about this man. He didn’t know what it was, but there was somewhat of an ominous vibe about him, like he was bad news or something. He grabbed a bowl of porridge, paid the 3 copper pieces it cost, and joined Loki at the table that the **_slightly_** younger male was beckoning him over towards.

“‘Boda, this is Thor. Thor, this is ‘Boda” He gestured between the pair.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Angrboda stuck out a hand which Thor reluctantly took for a shake. Verdandi, even this man’s hands were frightening. So cold and clammy. A _ding_ sounded off in his hand: this man was a sorcerer. He had to be.

“You’re a magician.” He blurted out.

Angrboda’s eyes flickered from side to side (as though he hadn’t sound-proofed their area). “How did you know? And I do not think I need to mention that I am capable of-”

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Loki interrupted, sitting up a little and moving his arms to draw attention to himself. “All three of us are magicians, there’s no reason to worry.”

Oh, but there was. “You’re of Jotunheim?” Thor questioned. 

“Yes.”

“Loki, may I talk to you a moment?” Thor questioned, gesturing with his head to the main door. “Outside, please?” Loki gave him an odd look and followed along with him. They stood in the cold, Thor’s legs shaking just a little bit and Loki right as rain because apparently the cold-blooded man ran just fine in -5 degree weather. “Loki, magic in this land is **_rare_**. The Nonacle described a sorcerer who had been wronged. What if this is him?”

Loki thought for a moment, but then shook his head. “That sorcerer has already attacked in the north, this one is headed there.”

“You don’t think it’s a bit suspicious of him, not telling you that he’s a sorcerer?”

“No. I didn’t reveal my status to him either. Thor, it’s not something you just blurt out at every meeting.”

“You told me as soon as you met me.”

“We were in _Vanaheim_ , where magic is very much legal. This is Jotunheim. Context matters, Thor.”

“Loki, you don’t think he’s just a _little bit_ sus?” 

Loki thought for a while again but once more returned with a shake. “No… he seems nice, which I’m only bringing up because the Nonacle said that the person behind this is justified, meaning that they’re likely to be bitter over some action against them. He mentioned that his parents live in West Vanaheim- you might know them, the Bjornsons?”

Thor shook his head, no. He did not know them. After all, he wasn’t from West Vanaheim, was he? He was from Asgard. He wasn’t a peasant, he was **_royalty_**.

“Anyways. His family left around the start of the Purification. So while he _was_ chased out of this land technically, I don’t think that that’s enough of a reason to say he’d be ‘justified’ in all this.”

“Why’s he headed to the north?”

“His grand father’s from there, he’s going to scatter his ashes. Listen, Thor, he has a map and a compass, two things that we don’t. If we ask him to take us to the north, we can get there much faster.”

“You don’t think that Jarnsaxa will know where the north is?” Thor really, **_really_** did not want an extra party in this mess, let alone **_Angrboda_**.

“I don’t think Jarnsaxa could find the north even with a multicoloured path leading him directly to it.” Loki commented, dryly. Jarnsaxa didn’t seem _that_ dumb, but Loki clearly didn’t like him for some reason. Far be it from Thor to begrudge someone the right to listen to their gut. Look at him now: he didn’t trust Angrboda despite not having much of a reason to either.

“Alright. He can come.” Thor acquiesced. “But I’ll be keeping a close eye on him. I still don’t trust him.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “What do you know about people? You didn’t even trust _me_ when we met.”

“Says who?”

“You disobeyed me and went into those mountains anyways, and you almost _died_ for it.”

“I knew you’d come save me.” Thor said cheekily, before going back into the warmth of the inn. He hadn’t, in fact, known that, but he liked to have the last word in conversations, especially conversations against Loki. It was more fulfilling that a hundred days of straight sex had been with Jane. He missed Jane, but he supposed it had been for the best. Sif saw Jane slap Thor once and went off on the woman about respecting one’s partner enough not to hit them. Jane had been incensed and demanded that Thor stop hanging out with Sif. Thor had dumped the woman right then and there. Sif was his oldest friend, they’d been crib mates, he wasn’t going to leave her behind for anyone, even if they weren’t romantically involved.

It seemed that Jarnsaxa had woken up as well. He was currently at the counter ordering his breakfast. Oats and a banana. Were Thor home it is likely he would have had some fruit, meat, dairy, and bread for breakfast, but he was poor until he got back so his oats would have to be enough. Jarnsaxa joined them at their table, eyes off of Loki who was glaring at him. Thor’d talk to Loki about that later.

“So this is Jarnsaxa?” Angrboda asked, an odd smile on his face. Thor felt this weird urge to shield Jarnsaxa from Angrboda.

“Aye. And you are?” Jarnsaxa looked the man up and down.

“Angrboda, but feel free to call me ‘Boda.”

Jarnsaxa nodded and turned back to his porridge.

Thor was right, something was off here.

.

After reaching Gaia’s Inn, Sif and the Idiots Three had been redirected south. Apparently Gaia was in contact with some men there and they said that they’d seen a man matching Loki’s description heading into Jotunheim, which was scary because he was a seidrmadr.

“Well if he’s a seidrmadr, why does he even need us to find him? Isn’t he like 21?” Fandral huffed as they rode their horses along. 

“Aye. We could just take a sojourn here and return ourselves to Asgard once he has come back.” Sif surprised everyone by agreeing with Fandral. She just didn’t see the point in this. Sometimes people, especially 21 year olds, left briefly to explore a bit. There was no harm in that. Gaia seemed overbearing.

Volstagg shook his head. “We must do this. We must find him **_quickly_**.”

“But _why_? He is an adult, it is his right to roam as he pleases.” Fandral pointed out.

Volstagg groaned deeply. “You guys are gonna hate me for this, but there’s a secret that I’ve **_got_** to tell you.”

“What?” Sif asked, eyes wide and focused on Volstagg.

“So… uh… _back in the day_ , around the time of Thor’s conception, Frigga was having a hard time conceiving. They knew from Tyr’s birth that Odin had no problem getting women pregnant, so she gave him her blessing to seek out a noble woman and have her have his child. Gaia’s Thor’s mom.”

“ ** _What!?_** ” Hogun, who was usually rather quiet,’s jaw dropped.

“ ** _No_**!” Sif blinked in complete and utter disbelief.

“You have **_got_** to be trolling right now,” Fandral gaped, not knowing what a troll was. Probably some big ogre-type creature with a club, but like fifty feet taller. He was guessing here.

“Nope. Gaia’s Thor’s mother. Loki’s Thor’s half brother. We’ve **_got_** to find Loki.”

Nodding, numb, the three just followed along on their horses in an awkward silence, the only signal that they were in the area at all was the clop of their horses’ hooves on the cobblestone path that they were taking. Nobody was in the mood to speak.

Eventually though, Fandral did ask. “Does Thor know?”

“No.” Volstagg replied. “He has no idea that he’s not Frigga’s son. Please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t, I won’t… is Baldr also…?”

“No. You all know that Thor’s got fertility powers. The story goes that Frigga ‘miraculously’ conceived Baldr post Thor’s birth, but I think she was just exposed to his raw power.” Volstagg answered.

“But she loves him though.” Sif remembered. “She loves Thor a lot.”

“You can love a child who’s not yours.”

“But Thor’s of her husband and another woman.”

“She gave her **_consent_**. She was the one who told Odin to do it. She wanted to be a mother too, you know.”

“But what about Gaia? She had her son stolen from her?” Sif was startingto look really sad.

“I’m pretty sure that it was a pre-agreement on their part too.” Volstagg pointed out. “Gaia was a noblewoman at the time. Odin wouldn’t have **_dared_** tricking her into this, and Frigga never would have let him.”

“If she’s a noblewoman, why is she living in an inn?” Fandral voiced the question they **_all_** wanted the answer to.

“No clue. I only know that she is Thor’s mother. She must have either fallen from grace or decided to leave.” Volstagg shrugged.

“Maybe she’s still a noblewoman. Maybe she’s just living in Vanaheim because it’s a nice place?”

“She has Loki… what if she had him out of wedlock and her family disowned her?” Fandral aired. “I did not see Loki’s father around anywhere.”

“I doubt that they’d have disowned her over anything.” Hogun said then. Everybody always listened when Hogun spoke, because of how rarely he did it. “She was the bearer of the son of the King of Asgard. I think that it is far more probable that she left. I think, given her concern over her son, that she was probably in an abusive marriage and she fled to give him a better life. Maybe Loki’s heading to Jotunheim because his father’s a Jotunn and he wants to confront him, but then Gaia’s like,” Hogun’s voice switched here to mimic, as closely as he could, that of a woman, “‘My baby! No! Your father is too powerful! You will die!’ Which is why she called in this favour from Odin?”

Everyone stared at Hogun, dumbstruck. The visionary had managed to take each and every single puzzle piece- both missing and present- and turn it into a beautiful work of art.

“By the Norns, Hogun’s gone and done it.” Fandral proclaimed. It was the only chain of events that made any semblance of sense. “Well done, man.”

“I can’t take all the credit. It was the plot of a play I watched last month with my mother.”

“Genius.” Fandral breathed in awe. Hogun just did that all the time, didn’t he. Brilliant mind that man had. He could have become a doctor, or a lawyer, or a teacher, but no: he’d blessed their merry gang with his mere presence. Norns bless Hogun.

Sif felt guilty about dubbing Gaia as ‘over-concerned’ right then. It was clear that the woman had been abused and let down, and Loki **_was_** her only child, it made sense that she was worried for her safety.

“Come on, lads. We must rescue Loki from his evil father’s clutches. For Gaia!” Sif raised her fist.

“ ** _For Gaia!_** ” They shouted, charging with their horses in a race to the border between Vanaheim and Jotunheim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My views on Jane? I like comic Jane, not movie Jane. I found her character bland at first, and THEN she slapped Thor! I was raised in a household where it was constantly drilled into us that your parents were the only ones who were ever allowed to touch you, (i.e. no romantic partners hitting you, no teachers hitting you (happens at some schools here, mostly public but I went to a private one and it still happened to a kid once (more than that if you include teacher-launched projectiles)… I’m gonna leave it there.) no friends hitting you, etc.) + in general I’ve always supported the ‘men shouldn’t hit women’ stance ALONGSIDE the ‘women shouldn’t hit men either’ stance. Just in general, if it’s your partner, don’t hit them. Period. You’ve no right. To me it’s just a sign that you don’t respect your partner, and I believe respect is at the core of every relationship. (Note. This does not apply in the case of consensual sex where this is pre-negotiated; also I get that some people are okay with it BOTH WAYS, but me PERSONALLY I don’t support it, which just added to my list of reasons not to like Jane. Again, just me).


End file.
